Bilbo Baggins and his Golden Lady
by HextheDaydreamer
Summary: For as long as he could remember, Bilbo Baggins always had Nemea. A stranger from the Wild and saved by his late mother, Belladonna, Nemea has chosen the Shire as her new home. But when a group of dwarvess appear at Bag End talking about a dragon and the reclaiming of their home, the lady wishes to join them while the hobbit would stay behind. Hiatus till Desolation of Smaug.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: The Hobbit and the Golden Lady**

As the wizard ambled down the path, opening and closing the gate to Bag End as he went, Bilbo Baggins was quite content to continue with his peaceful morning and smoke to forget the ordeal that was Gandalf the Grey. He frowned a little and looked out the window once more to watch the old man disappear down the road – he just _had_ to invite him for supper, didn't he? Bilbo scratched his head and puffed angrily, what else was he supposed to do anyway? A Baggins of Bag End did not go about sending people away, a Baggins was supposed to _invite_ people and make them feel welcome. Bilbo sat down in his armchair by the fire and puffed away on his pipe, fuming silently in such a fashion that one might've imagined smoke coming out of his ears, and wondered briefly why an adventure would be a good idea. He was fifty years old and a respectful bachelor, he'd done well by his father and…_Oh bother_, Bilbo thought as he looked up at the mantelpiece where the pictures of his parents sat. What would his mother think of him now?

Belladonna Took was an audacious, wild woman who preferred tree-climbing and dangling herself over rivers to knitting and laundry. She was an excellent cook (a skill that was thankfully passed onto her son) and something of a warrior when it came to defending her child from bullies. She would've left in a heartbeat, the hobbit thought sadly, she would be packing her bags right now and searching for a sword or something _adventurous_ like that. Bilbo stood up and walked out of the parlour and down the hall to his study where a tall desk piled with maps and books, Elvish writing along with some of his own crude translations, and even a few of Belladonna's notes lay. Ink pots were scattered about the room, two smaller tables carried more maps and small pamphlets, letters from some of Belladonna's old friends. There was a huge map of Middle-Earth framed and set on the northern wall so the light of the window hit it fully, and Bilbo ran his hands along the thickly bound books his mothers had brought back for him from some of her trips.

She had travelled a lot, walking as far east as Bree and west to the Blue Mountains before she was married. Bilbo remembered her preparing for a trip to the Bay of Forochel and how he so wanted to go but Bungo said no; Bilbo was too young in his mind. And Belladonna always brought home such interesting things from her travels, healings stones and medicinal flowers, drawing, and books – oh, lots and lots of books. So, why _not_ go on an adventure? Why not write a book about it, he might meet an Elf or two on the way and that would be worth it, right? Or maybe a Dwarf…no, no, too messy.

There was a knock on the door. Bilbo jumped up and whirled around, if Gandalf could read minds Bilbo had a few choice words he'd like to say to the wizard. The knock sounded again and Bilbo promptly shoved his Tookish side into a barrel and shut it tight, stalking towards the door and throwing it open. All anger immediately vanished from his face when he saw the visitor, his face lit up as she rubbed her nose against his.

"You look upset, Little One." The woman's deep voice said, Bilbo kindly stepped away from the door as she bent down and walked inside.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about, how was your trip?" Bilbo walked into the kitchen and fumbled around in the cupboards for a box of teas, he asked aloud what she would prefer.

"One of those fruity ones and the trip was good," she moved to a cushion tucked in the corner of the parlour and began pulling out leaves and twigs out of her hair, she opened a window and tossed them outside because she knew Bilbo would not be happy if he found the floor littered with dirt. The hobbit dropped the teabag into a teapot and set a kettle of water over the hearth, he may make a soup later on for the two of them – sorry – the _three_ of them if Gandalf bothered to show up tonight.

"So, where did you go this time?" He asked as the kettle began to whistle; he grabbed a dish cloth from the sink and used it to shield his hands from the heat of the metal as he wrapped his covered hands around the handle and lifted it out. Bilbo poured the water into the teapot and let it steep for a few minutes. He moved into the pantry across the hall and pulled out a few tarts and cookies that he had baked last night and put them onto a tray. He then returned to the kitchen and emptied the tea into the cups and placed them onto the platter as well. He set the tray down on a small table and the woman crawled over and grabbed her mug (a fairly large cup by hobbit standards) that was coloured blue with a painted daisy on the front. She dipped her finger into the tea before touching the cup to her lips, she leaned her head back and took a long drink.

"Fornost," she murmured, her greenish-blue eyes twinkling. Bilbo choked on his tea and coughed as the hot liquid burned the inside of his throat, the woman gave him a scolding look and he waved his hand at her.

"What would drive you _there_ of all places, Nim? It's abandoned and… and dangerous." She quirked her eyebrow at him and laughed.

"_I_ am dangerous, Little One, that place is not. I go for the hunt, Wargs are becoming increasingly common up there and I have need to polish my claws." Upon seeing the distressed look on her friend's face, the woman shook her head. "They will not venture this far south, Bilbo; their paths lead them to the east." She gestured vaguely in that direction and took another gulp of her tea, wiping the excess from her mouth. Bilbo leaned back in his seat and sighed, reaching for his pipe and sticking it into his mouth. The woman cocked her head to one side, knocking a small stick out of her hair and she picked it up and started ripping the bark off with her nails, still staring curiously at him.

"Bilbo," she started cautiously, "is something wrong?" Bilbo blew a clumsy smoke ring.

"Well – I – it's just – um – "

"Spit it out." Bilbo huffed and looked away.

"Gandalf asked me to go on an adventure with him – I said no – or rather I meant too but now he's coming to supper thinking that I said yes!" Bilbo said quickly, dropping his pipe onto the table and grabbing a cookie to nibble on angrily. Nemea, as that was the lady's name, rolled her eyes and reached out to grab one of Bilbo's hands, her long, yellow hair falling to cover half of her face.

"This is what bothers you? Bilbo, you know I would come with you, yes?" Bilbo blinked in surprise and exhaled a breath before smiling a tiny bit. He leaned forward and carefully rested his forehead against hers, bringing his hand to grab the back of her head and she did the same. It was her odd way of offering comfort but what Bilbo did now was thank her, he pulled away after a minute and pulled a stray leaf from her hair.

"Nemea, what would I do without you?"

"Worry yourself sick about wizards and the dragon-lady?"

"Dragon-lady indeed, nearly took off with my silverware last year, didn't she? I wonder what would've happened had you not stopped her." Nemea shook her shaggy mane of golden-yellow hair out of her face and snorted, flopping backwards into the cushion with a rueful smirk.

"Please, she wouldn't have made it to the door much less out of it." She said smartly, abandoning her tea on the table and grabbing a chocolate chip cookie. They talked more on the state of things at home and Bilbo described his meeting with Gandalf in more detail. Nemea had met Gandalf a few times before meeting Bilbo as she travelled from her home in the east. That is what initially drove Bilbo to like her so much as most hobbits had a particular saying about the east and that was something along the lines of "don't go near it". Bilbo was a very imaginative child, much more Tookish than he was today, because back when he was young he would have Nemea take him all over the Shire. Together they hunted for Elves and Goblins in the woods, crossing the Brandywine River and sneaking into the Old Forest until Belladonna and Bungo strictly forbid it. It was in these years that Bilbo's fondness for taking baths started as the two of them would tread mud into the carpets and darken their clothes with mud and water, even if Bilbo didn't like the idea of swimming very much.

Nemea was a tall woman though and she held him over the water and never let him fall. All the hobbit children had become quite fond of her and would braid daisies in her long golden hair, pinning it up on her head so it wouldn't dangle around her elbows. The older hobbits were not as…affectionate towards her. She wore white cotton leggings and furry boots that ended just underneath her knees, and long yellow fur skirt that brushed against her knees and was bound around her hips with a leather belt. The Bagginses of Bag End had insisted she wear a white shirt underneath the straps of fur that were bound around her chest and stomach with leathery straps, it was supposed to make her appear more proper. The dragon lady (Lobelia Sackville-Baggins) often whispered about her apparent "savage upbringing" and Nemea was always quick to glare at the woman. Bilbo would explain to her later in life that Lobelia was worried that Bungo would her another heir to his estate alongside Bilbo, Nemea took to calling her a dragon as she coveted Bag End like a drake covets gold.

Nemea had been found by Belladonna Baggins, the hobbit was returning from a trip to Buckland when she found the woman crawling out of the High Hay which protected the hobbits from the evil of the Old Forest. Belladonna borrowed a wagon from the Brandybucks and a pony to get Nemea to her home where she nursed the woman back to health. Nemea never mentioned why she was injured and why she was in the Old Forest. Of course, Bungo had not been the happiest person on Middle-Earth to have some stranger welcomed into his home without his permission but Nemea earned her keep in the few short months needed to heal completely. She often went and hunted rabbits for meals and warded off the smaller animals that would pray on the garden, and she looked after little Bilbo when his parents were busy with adult affairs. It was a very pleasant arrangement and by the end of their lives, Belladonna and Bungo left a small portion of their inheritance to her which was used to dig a tunnel at the back of Bag End that led to Nemea's private space.

"Are you tired at all? I have your bed made up." Nemea looked up from her fourth tart, strawberry judging from the sudden redness to her lips.

"No, I took a short nap before coming here. You knew I was coming?" Bilbo laughed and nodded, reaching into his vest pocket for a handkerchief that Nemea could use to clean her mouth.

"You may not notice but you always disappear for exactly three months at a time unless something happens." He took drained his cup and stood up, Nemea instantly finished her cup as well and followed Bilbo into the kitchen to wash up. Stealing another tart, Nemea sat down at the table as Bilbo pulled out a big pot and started chopping up some vegetables.

"Do you need any help with that?" she asked as he poured several cups of water into the pot.

"No, no, thank you. I want to make something rather special tonight, shoo!" he waved her away with a smile and Nemea rolled her eyes at him and walked out of the kitchen to the center of the house, before her lay the pantry, and behind that was the wine cellar and the cold cellar. She yawned into her hand and shrugged her shoulder; if there was nothing to do she might as well sleep. Keeping her head low as she shuffled through the food storage, she opened a door in the cold cellar and walked down a hallway that was her size. In a large circular room like the rest of the house, was Nemea's room. It wasn't all that extravagant, a large round bed lay against the north wall covered in a heavy cotton blanket. A drawer lay to right with a few "proper" clothing pieces and a nightgown, a cloak of yellow fabric for the mild winters and a heavier forest green cloak for winters up north. Nemea had a thing for travelling as well. A collection of feathers and skins hung on the left wall, an assortment of teeth strung into necklaces hung there as well. There was one small window over her bed and a glass of water filled with bluebells sat there along with a courting gift from her mate. Nemea pressed her fingers over her eyes and shook her head. Growling softly, she climbed over her bed and grabbed the piece of jewellery. It was a simple orange crystal about the size of her thumbnail, strung on a thin black cord, in the shape of a teardrop. She fastened it around her neck and lay down on the bed.

"I miss you so much."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Dining with Dwarves**

Although the thought that dropped into her head was on a vastly different page then the conversation she was currently having, Nemea paused midway through her sentence to watch Bilbo vault over a fence and start tumbling down the hill. Her expression was frozen in worry for a few seconds before laughter bubbled its way back to her ears and she turned to Belladonna and shrugged.

"You hobbits remind me of rabbits." Bungo, who was well aware that Nemea _hunted_ rabbits for them year round, sat up quite fast and let a handful of letters slip from his grip.

"And just what does that mean?" he asked crossly, huffing indignantly. Nemea instantly imagined Bungo as a giant dark brown bunny, wiggling his tiny pink nose at her in disgust. She played with the image of him stamping his foot on the ground, making animated gestures with his short arms before shuffling off. Nemea actually wondered what the Shire would look like if it populated by fat bunnies with impeccable manners and tailored waistcoats; she fancied that all hobbits should've been born with fluffy white tails. Feeling the elder hobbit's accusatory gaze on her still, Nemea shook herself out of her amused daydream and put her hands up in the air.

"I meant no offense, Bungo. You both are quick, quite round – " Belladonna snorted as Bungo stared down at his stomach with a slight frown. "And cute, I confess to say. One would not think that hobbits and rabbits are so quick and silent, it is strange that you are so peaceful when you'd make excellent hunters." The look of horror that passed over Bungo's face was a pleasure to watch as Bilbo climbed over the fence and tackled into Nemea's side, wrapping his tiny arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into her fur shirt. The women looked down at the curly-haired boy with soft smiles as Belladonna reached behind her back and grabbed an apple from the small tree behind her. It had been planted on the day of Bilbo's birth but it hadn't grown very much in his two years. Hobbits age twice as fast as Men and Dwarves, he would've been four compared to their children. Bilbo snatched the fruit from his mother's hand and climbed onto Nemea's shoulders, his other hand fisting around her hair.

"Wun, Nim, wun!" the child demanded and Nemea looked to Belladonna for permission.

"It's fine but no trips to Buckland, for goodness sake!" Nemea rose to her feet slowly, balancing the child on her shoulders before grabbing his ankles and jumping over the fence and whipping down the path. Bilbo had tossed his apple core to the wind and grabbed onto her hair with renewed vigor; using her hair like reins, he flicked the strands he held and Nemea ran faster. She didn't mind that his one hand was sticky and that it smelled of apples, his infectious laugher was all she really needed to go on. Nemea had no children of her own but she had grown up around children all her life, her younger cousins and some of the children from other families. The Shire was even better, there were hobbit children _everywhere_; multitudes of little girls and boys with round, cheery faces and ridiculously curly hair, tripping over their too large feet while creating crowns of daisies and plaiting buttercups into tiny braids. Very much like rabbits, Nemea thought smugly, hobbit women do not waste any time.

Hamfast Gamgee was pushing a wheelbarrow full of carrots and lettuce and he looked up just in time to see Nemea running towards him, letting out a shout of terror, he ducked down behind the wheelbarrow as the golden-haired woman jumped over him and skidded around the corner. They were a blur of yellow and white. The rest of the hobbit children tried to catch up to them and Bilbo smiled widely as Nemea left them in the dust. They stopped once in the market where Bilbo skipped in between the vendors and happened upon a small wooden carving of a lion, when asked how he came by it, the hobbit child only grinned. Nemea rolled her eyes with an easy smile.

"Perhaps your mother will let you paint it when we go home."

"Go home, Nim, go home now."

"Of course, little master

*/*/*

Nemea was drifting in and out of consciousness by the time the sun set below The Hill, and when she heard heavy footsteps in the house, she was quick to open her eyes. Surveying the darkness of her room and staring down the hall, she realized that her door had been shut and that muffled the conversation taking place. Sitting up and adjusting her necklace so it wasn't strangling her, Nemea tiptoed down the hall and squeezed her way out of the door, someone had shoved a crate in front of it. Still sleepy and not caring what was in the crate in the first place, she scented the air and puzzled over the smell of coal, dried earth, and sweat.

"Very good, this. Anymore?" a deep voice asked from the kitchen.

"What? Oh, uh, yes, yes." Nemea moved around the food stored in the pantry and walked into the kitchen where Bilbo grabbed a plate of biscuits and set it down before a surly-looking dwarf, quietly stealing one for himself.

"Dining with dwarves now? What happened to the wizard?" Bilbo winced and turned to look at her, his posture was stiff and anxious like that of a mouse and Nemea smirked as he scurried towards her and took her arm.

"I wasn't expecting _him_." Bilbo angrily jerked a finger at the dwarf who gave Nemea a glare, she raised one hand and flexed her fingers, cracking the knuckles there and glancing at her nails which were sharpened to a point. The dwarf narrowed his eyes and Nemea watched his hand slide down below the table to grab a knife from his boot. The doorbell rang and Nemea shooed her hobbit away, coming into the kitchen completely to stare at the dwarf. He was broad-shouldered with a bald head covered in tattoos and a long moustache; his hands were marked with runes and symbols as well. He rose from his seat and sheathed his dagger, walking to the other side of the room while keeping his eyes on her. He stuck his hand into a jar of cookies. A brief, fleeting smile was on his face and Nemea chuckled and bowed her head, no longer sensing a threat as another dwarf entered the room. Substantially older and considerably friendlier, she watched the two brothers (they addressed each other as such) greet one another by smashing their hands together. The white-haired dwarf then turned to Nemea with a bow.

"Balin, at your service, Miss."

"Nemea, at yours, Master Dwarf. I didn't get your brother's name."

"Dwalin." He told her shortly and Nemea grinned, revealing her teeth and canines proudly. She liked these two very much; Balin for his charm and Dwalin for his bluntness. Bilbo returned to the kitchen after hanging up Balin's cloak just in time to follow the dwarves as they headed towards his pantry. As they examined the food in storage and poured themselves each an ale, and as Bilbo tried to convince them that they had found the wrong house, the doorbell rang a third time and Bilbo turned around and moaned. Nemea rolled her eyes at him and patted his head affectionately.

"Hush, I'll get it." Bilbo mumbled a "thank you" and trailed after the dwarves into the dining room. Nemea continued through the kitchen and the parlour to face the entrance to the hobbit hole and bent her knees slightly to reach the doorknob. She opened the door and faced two young dwarves who smiled widely at her.

"Fili – " said the blond one.

"And Kili – " added the dark-haired one.

"At your service." They said together and bowed. Kili, the younger of the two judging by his lack of facial hair, looked anxiously at his partner before taking a hesitant step forward to peer in to the house.

"This wouldn't happen to be Mr. Boggins house, would it?"

"Mr. _Baggins_ lives here. Do you belong to a Balin and Dwalin?" as if hearing their names, the two dwarves appeared with Bilbo at their heels. Nemea stepped away from the door and allowed the boys to enter the house, simultaneously making Bilbo angrier and the dwarves happier. Dwalin caught Kili around the neck and scrubbed the boy's head with his knuckles, dragging him deep into the house as Fili strut forward and dumped his weapons into Bilbo's arms. The hobbit looked outside to check for more dwarves before shutting it with his feet despite his Baggins nature, and as if realizing that fact, he gave Nemea the fiercest look he could muster.

"Why did you let them in?" Nemea put her hand on Bilbo's shoulder and guided him down the hall; the dwarves had pulled the table out into the hallway and shifted a cabinet off to the side so that someone could sit comfortably at one end. Bilbo cringed at each squeal and screech the wood made against the floor and whimpered as they started rummaging around for forks and knives and spoons.

"Your father asked me to be welcoming and polite in his absence. I am merely fulfilling a dying man's wish." She said with a shrug of her shoulders, jogging to the dwarves as they needed to pull the table back some more and muttering about some "great big oaf".

"You're doing this on purpose! I can hear you smirking, Nim!" the woman moved in beside Dwalin and the dwarf looked at her skeptically before they lifted their end of the table up and pulled it out without causing too much noise.

"Nonsense, Little One, you cannot hear me smirking no more than I can see smoke coming out of your ears. Now be a good boy and man the door." Growling at her, Bilbo thrust all of Fili's things onto the floor as a series of knocking and bell ringing summoned him away from his inevitable tantrum. Hearing the door open and the sound of several more bodies, Nemea walked into the pantry and met Balin, wondering just how much food was required in the first place.

"Are you his wife or his mother, miss?" Fili asked from behind her, spying a barrel of ale tucked in between the wall and the pantry. Nemea watched them as they tried to find a proper way of lifting it out and she hopped on top of it and put her back against the wall, pushing the end of it with her feet and sending the barrel into their waiting arms. Fili and Kili each took a side as Nemea grabbed the back end, they carried it to a spot just outside of the dining room and set it down, Dwalin tossed them a couple tankards and the boys started filling them. Smirking as ale spilled onto the floor and picturing Bilbo's distress already, Nemea reached over Fili and grabbed a stein for herself.

"I've lived here since Bilbo was young; I suppose I am a _little_ motherly towards him." With that same thought in mind, Nemea paused to watch one dwarf meander his way through the throng of bodies to find himself a place at the table which was quickly filling up with food, two others sat on either side of him and Nemea guessed that they were all related. The eldest of them, a proper dwarf with grey hair and an intricate braid hanging under his chin, managed to grab a few plates of food for the youngest. The dwarf on his other side sported something like a star-shaped hairdo and she watched as he stuffed his fork into his pocket, once he noticed Nemea staring he put it back on the table. The golden-haired lady sat in the corner of the room to allow the dwarves enough space to talk and reacquaint themselves with each other. She nudged Fili's chair and asked for names.

"The group of three is Dori, Ori, and Nori. Ori is a little older than Kili here." Fili wrapped his arms around his brother's neck and pulled him into an affectionate headlock.

"There's Oin and Gloin beside them," a large dwarf sat down at the head of the table near them. "That's Bombur. Bofur's on the other side, Bifur should be around somewhere; he's got an axe in his head so you can't miss him but he doesn't speak a word of Common." Nemea nodded slowly, she had a decent memory for names and she mouthed each dwarf's name as she looked at them. Everyone had by now gathered around the table, including the wizard Gandalf who looked over and met Nemea's eyes, he smiled warmly at her and Nemea leaned back as Fili stabbed his fork into the air and caught a sausage sent to him by Dwalin.

The meal continued on in that fashion, loud laughter, a casual food fight, and a few stories to set the mood. By talking with Fili and Kili, she learned that almost all of the dwarves were to some extent related to each other and that their uncle was missing still, this little gathering was something like a family reunion.

Nemea soon drifted away from lights of the house and moved outside, a familiar pain had started up in her heart. It had been a long time since she had attended any parties, longer still since having a proper romp with her own kin. Nemea closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head and growling. _Leave it alone, _she told herself, _there is nothing for you back there. _

Her ears which were not as sharp as an Elf's, picked up the sound of heavy footsteps in the distance. A dark figure moved about the hobbit holes and she could hear him muttering, the wind carrying his voice on the air. He appeared to be looking for something specific and he stopped suddenly and looked up, staring right at her. Moving her hair out of her face and pushing it over one shoulder, Nemea raised her hand and waved. She did not expect a return gesture but when the figure raised his hand and shook it at her, she felt herself smile and nodded her head. Bilbo's voice grew louder and Nemea guessed that she ought to return before the poor thing had a heart attack.

Stepping back inside and hearing the sound of the silverware being beaten against the table and feet being stomped against the floor, Nemea walked down the hall and peered into the kitchen to see the dwarf Bifur commanding the sink, in fact, most of the dwarves were helping clean up as they sang a song to tease the hobbit. She eventually landed back in the dining room and found Bilbo standing in between Fili, Nori, and Ori. The song ended with a loud proclamation of "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" and the dwarves all turned to each other to laugh. Nemea placed her arms on Bilbo's shoulders and kissed the top of his head, smiling up at Gandalf as he gestured to the stack of cleaned dishware.

There were three loud knocks on the door. Everyone went quiet. Gandalf stared at the door and nodded to himself.

"He is here." The old wizard moved to the door and Bilbo followed after him somewhat angrily, Nemea trailed after him and stood behind the dwarves. The door swung open and the man behind it gave Gandalf a funny look.

"Gandalf," he said with a slight smile. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for that mark on the door." He pulled off his cloak and turned to smile at his nephews; Kili stepped forth and grabbed the cloak to hang it amongst the other ones. Bilbo shook his head and attempted to get a look at the door but Gandalf closed it.

"Mark? There is no mark, that door was painted a week ago."

"There is a mark, I put there myself." The wizard interrupted gently as Thorin turned to face the hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Nemea got a very uneasy feeling in her stomach as Thorin examined the hobbit, even more so as he questioned Bilbo of his choice of weapon. Nemea knew him to have quite the arm when it came to rock throwing as he could hit a bird flying through the air or one of his cousins running off with a freshly baked pie, and the more she thought about it the more she remembered receiving many a rock to the head for sleeping outside when the little hobbit demanded she sleep with him. Luckily, thunder storms no longer frightened him because there would be no way that they'd both fit in his bed now.

"They've eaten everything! How am I going to feed him?" Bilbo muttered as the dwarves returned to the table, Nemea snorted and put her hands on Bilbo's shoulders. She guided him back to the kitchen just as Bombur sneaked (using that word loosely, mind you), out with a plate of cookies. The woman pointed to the pot over the hearth that had surprisingly been left untouched, the lid rattled and steam filtered out from the top, Bilbo gave Nemea a glare.

"That was for us only." He pouted.

"And I am no longer hungry; he seems much tamer than the others."

"I'll agree with you there but only because I'm tired." Bilbo jerked a finger at her and Nemea rolled her eyes, waiting with him as he stirred the pot and added some chopped potatoes and cubed rabbit meat.

"They're from the snares," the hobbit said suddenly. "I've been practicing."

"Good, this journey may require such skills." Bilbo laughed and pulled a bowl from the cupboard and dipped a spoon into his soup to taste it. He then moved to the window and plucked a few leaves from his basil plant and dropped them inside the pot, stirring it again and humming to himself.

"Maybe I'll just have you hunt for me, hm?"

"I knew you wanted to go." The lights were dimmed and Bilbo prepared the last dwarf's meal. Everyone's eyes were on Thorin, and Gandalf gave the two non-dwarves a smile as Bilbo slid the bowl of soup in front of him. The dwarf prince didn't say "thank you" or anything and Bilbo fought against the irritated sigh that he so wanted to expel. Nemea patted his shoulder and they stayed in the hall behind the company as the dwarves questioned their leader on a few things. Nemea found herself watching Bilbo as he interacted with the dwarves; being curious about their quest one second and then brushing it off as uninteresting the next.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Nemea looked up from the ground as Bilbo addressed the dwarves, he put his hands on his hips and she looked over at Gandalf who chuckled under his breath.

"I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" The dwarves cheered and Nemea stood up to stand across from Gandalf, hovering over Bilbo as she did so. She stared around the table and at Ori, he blushed furiously when he saw her staring at him and she tipped her head in greeting. She knew well enough that Balin and Dwalin had seen battle yet she was uncertain of the others. Bifur didn't get an axe in his head while he was chopping down trees, and Thorin didn't command his friends' attention by being a prince alone. They fought and they had lost. When Nemea looked at Ori, she doubted that Dori let him see battle; Nori looked more like a thief than a warrior. Nemea then looked to Bofur and Bombur; neither looked like seasoned veterans. They must've had some training, any dwarf she had ever met could fight. Fili and Kili were most likely trained, and from eavesdropping around, Gloin and Oin had fought alongside Thorin during the Battle of Azanulbizar.

"No! I haven't stolen a thing in my life!" Nemea snorted and shoved Bilbo playfully, having half-listened to the conversation about sneaking into the Lonely Mountain. She listened more intently when Thorin had to yell to draw his companions back to the matter at hand.

"Liar. Who was it that stole Mrs. Gamgee's pies? Did you not steal one of Gandalf's fireworks that one year, I think – " Nemea reached behind the wall and felt one of the china cabinets scattered throughout the house. She pushed it away from the wall and pulled out a brightly coloured pole and handed it to Gandalf who was laughing as he examined it.

"There it is. I'd say you're qualified." She finished with a smirk.

"I'm not so sure, lassie, seems to me your Mr. Baggins may have a point." Balin said but he smiled at Nemea and Bilbo as Gandalf pushed the firecracker into one of his impossibly long sleeves.

"Aye, the Wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor defend themselves." Nemea cast Dwalin a dirty look as Fili piped in with a "he's fine!" and then the whole congregation of dwarves minus Thorin started to argue with one another. Thorin shook his head and Nemea watched as the shadows of the room started climbing over the walls and the lights began to go out one by one, Gandalf stood up and his voice became loud and deep like thunder. The dwarves dropped into their seats and fell silent, some truly afraid while others were simply surprised. Thorin for his part remained where he was and gave Gandalf a tired look when he sat back down.

"And I'd like to add that you, my dear, would be most beneficial to this quest."

"I will not ask a woman to join us."

"Good, for I do not need asking."

* * *

And though this chapter is at its end, there needs to be something said regarding the golden lady and the grey wizard. Gandalf was one of the Istari, a group of Maiar spirits sent to protect the world and of the five that came to Middle-Earth – it was Gandalf who took the most time to get the know each of the different races. On these journeys', he met many strange people and Nemea was counted among them. Although she was nothing out of the ordinary, her people had been moulded by the hands of Eru like all other things, she had a particular habit of…following the wizard around wherever he went. It was her childlike curiosity that endeared her to him and they often travelled together when Bilbo was young, unlike the trips she makes now – three months apart from the Shire – Nemea spent years with Gandalf. Their stories kept the hobbit boys and girls up asking many questions and begging for more, more stories of the beauty of Elves and the skill of the Dwarves. Of course, many hobbit parents didn't appreciate the two of them putting such thoughts in their children's head, of adventures and sword fights.

Of these stories, a few are mentioned later and I shall try to transcribe them as I remember hearing them…and that was so long ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The Company is Set**

Thorin finished his meal in silence as Nemea and Bilbo argued down the hall and out of sight but everyone could hear the juxtaposition of anger to calm in their voices. If the dwarves had bothered to get up and watch the pair they would see Bilbo angrily shaking his fists and gesturing outside and in the house, stomping his feet as his body shook with rage. The golden-haired lady just stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, her expression soft and neutral as she listened to her best friend beg her to stay. Nemea hadn't voiced her opinion, allowing Bilbo to get all his thoughts out and gently nodding her head to what he was saying, she of course knew of the dangers that waited outside the borders of the Shire and she appreciated his concern but the decision to leave was ultimately hers to make.

Thorin dragged a tired hand down his face, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of his father's key before his hand rested on the table; he carefully leaned over and looked at Gandalf.

"Even if the hobbit chooses to join us, I will not be held responsible for his fate." Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

"Nor would you need to be. Nemea has been looking after Bilbo since he was born – " Bilbo's voice became louder and more agitated until Nemea shouted for silence. All of dwarves turned in the direction of heavy footfalls and watched the woman stalk past the dining room, her eyes flashing dangerously. Bilbo came after her, his shorter legs running to keep up with her long stride, and they took their argument to the study, the walls muffled their voices but not entirely.

"This is different, Bilbo! I lived near the mountain, watched as Dale burned and listened to a hundred dying screams. I watched my kin become nothing more than mounds of burnt flesh. My father died that day and mother, my brothers and my…" Nemea's voice cracked. "You can't possibly understand what this means to me…to go _home_."

"Is this not your home too?" No one spoke for a long time and Kili got up to take Thorin's bowl, moving into the kitchen to clean it up but there was no song this time.

Their host's golden lady had lived in Erebor and witnessed its fall by the dragon Smaug. Many of the dwarves had lost family and friends on that day and the battles that followed during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. But she had been so quiet during the meal, speaking only to defend her small hobbit friend. The older members of the company suspected that she had seen some form of battle, there was something in the way she carried herself as if she carried some heavy burden on her shoulders but was too proud to let anyone share the load. She moved like a warrior, never letting anyone have a clear shot at her back and looking into everyone's eyes whether they were speaking to her or not. Lady warriors were not unheard of – especially for dwarves – but no one could discern where she came from. She was certainly not an Elf, her features were not so sharp and defined and her grace was more primal than ethereal; her body was taller and more robust than the women of Rohan and Gondor. She was more than a little unsettling that she carried no weapon but you still felt as though you needed to duck and cover. Nori, who was still plastered to the wall, said he heard them start to speak again.

"Then I suppose you'll have to go without me, I can't change your mind, no one's ever done that except my mother and we both know she's not here to talk sense." There was an old bitterness in the hobbit's voice and Nemea sighed deeply. "I can't face down dragons much less retake a mountain occupied by one. Gandalf chose the wrong hobbit, I'm sorry I failed you." Bilbo walked past the dining room, trying to avoid the looks of the dwarves and went into the kitchen to make himself some tea. He walked back and sat down in his bedroom. Nemea returned to the dining room and nodded her head solemnly; she stabbed her fingers into the palms of her hands to distract herself from Bilbo's small body sitting forlornly on his bed. Balin passed her the contract with a soft smile and tapped her hand comfortingly. Staring down at the paper as it tumbled to the floor; Nemea pursed her lips and leaned over towards Gandalf to whisper something in his ear, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Of course, my dear." The two of them got up and walked into the living room, Gandalf took a seat near the fireplace in a chair suited to his size as Nemea sat at his feet and combed her hair with her fingers. Thorin followed after them and this drew the rest of the company after them even if Bombur snuck back into the kitchen in search of a nighttime snack. Gandalf was reading the terms of the contract aloud and Thorin stared at Nemea with an unreadable expression as she shoved some wood into the fireplace. Gandalf conjured a flame in the center of his palm and chucked it in after the logs; he pulled his pipe out of his sleeve and eagerly placed it on his lip.

"Can you not read?" Thorin asked her curiously as he lit his own pipe. Nemea looked up at him as she plaited her long hair into a braid.

"No. Bungo," she gestured to his picture on the mantelpiece. "Wanted to teach me but I wasn't interested. I know some important words and how to read signs but beyond that, no." Nemea suddenly thought of Lobelia teasing her for her lack of understanding and ground her teeth together while she flipped her braid behind her shoulder. If there was one thing she wouldn't miss about the Shire, it was Lobelia. As the rest of the lights were dimmed and the warmth of the fire stretched across her back, Nemea let out a pleasant purr and rocked back into Gandalf's knees, a word catching her interest.

"Gandalf, what does "evisceration" mean?"

*/*/*

Later that night Nemea wandered in Bilbo's room, happy to find him asleep as she plucked up a bag up from his closet. Looking behind her at the dwarves who had begun cleaning the house before bed, she opened Bilbo's drawers and packed three sets of clothes, a few handkerchiefs, a blanket, several pairs of socks, and other essentials. She placed the pack near his door and reached over to pull a blanket over his sleeping form and planted a kiss on his curls. Treading carefully into the front entrance, she watched Kili wipe the mud off of Belladonna's glory box, and then Fili as he grabbed a brush and dipped it into a pail of water to scrub the mud out of the carpet. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur were working in the pantry trying to get things in order and taking any food that remained and rationing it out. Dwalin and Gloin and Nori put the table and cabinet back into place, while the other two Ri brothers fixed the scratches in the floor. Oin and Balin started scoping out places to sleep. Nemea peered into the parlour and found that the wizard and dwarf prince were both gone.

"Thorin?" She called softly, looking into each of the rooms as she passed them. She heard low voices and followed them into the study where Gandalf and Thorin were examining a few of Bilbo's maps. Thorin was facing Gandalf, the light from a small candle highlighted the wrinkles in his young face and made his scowl all the more prominent as he glared up at the wizard. Nemea called him again and he straightened his posture and turned ever so slightly to face her, all signs of old age disappearing as he became the proud dwarf prince in exile. Nemea suddenly remembered another dwarf who had the ability to be a giggling git in one second and then a serious warrior in training the next.

"Yes?" Thorin asked sternly, impatient with her silence. Gandalf put the candlelight to sleep.

"There's a room down the hall for you." The study was dark and the light from the hallway made her hair shine like gold. Thorin nodded and rolled up his map, leaving Gandalf to sort out the things they had disturbed. She led him to the left side of the house and opened the door the guest room where a small bed occupied the wall with a window open to the road; there was a tall mirror and a bookshelf with a small chest of clothing. Not overly extravagant but homely and warm, Thorin nodded his approval as he propped his axe and sword against the bed.

"There's a room for your nephews on the other side of the house." He looked at her with a mildly surprised face before he closed his eyes and expelled a deep breath.

"Thank you." Nemea smiled softly and bowed her head, leaving him alone to find the boys. Fili and Kili had set down their bedrolls in the small room where all the cloaks had been hung and where most of their packs had been stored for the evening. Nemea shook her head and nudged the boys to their feet.

"Princes do not sleep on the floor." She pointed to a door seemingly unnoticed that was attached to the oak hall and Kili jumped up to look inside, Fili rolled his eyes and picked up both his and Kili's things. The room was smaller than Thorin's with only a bed and a few knickknacks hidden from Bilbo's more dishonest relatives. Kili took one look at the bed and leapt onto it.

"Will this be alright?" she asked, taking their armour and placing it under the window.

"Of course! We haven't slept in a bed since we left Ered Luin. Come, brother, it is big enough for both of us!" Kili exclaimed, jumping into the covers and beckoning his blond sibling over with a huge grin on his face.

"Perhaps it would seem bigger if you take off the heavy clothing." Nemea pointed out dryly, flicking a rebellious strand of hair out of her face.

"Would you care to help me with that?" Kili asked coyly and Nemea snorted, Fili pulled off his boots and coat and jumped into after his brother, the two of them wrestling for a bit until Kili was stripped down to a soft blue shirt and his black pants. Fili had everything under control, Nemea said, reaching over and ruffling their hair, she wasn't needed here. She bid them both goodnight and shut the door behind her. All around Bag End bedrolls had scattered and Nemea debated whether or not she would bother going to her room, Thorin would most likely want to leave early so she tiptoed into the living room and curled up in her cushion.

The next morning when the sun was still asleep beneath the horizon, Nemea woke up to the smell of bacon and sausages, eggs, and potatoes (and thankfully not the snoring of the dwarves). She opened her eyes slowly and found soft brown ones staring at her. Blinking in surprise, she bolted upright and hit her head on the edge of a bookcase; she touched a hand to her head and groaned at the bump that was sure to appear there. Shaking her head and adjusting her necklace, she yawned and rubbed the sand out of her eyes. Kili sat on his bum with his legs crossed and was simply staring at her with one of those goofy grins Nemea knew she would see a lot of. He put a finger to his lips and mentioned for her to follow him into the dining room.

The table hadn't been moved this time and Nemea looked into the kitchen to find Bombur cooking all by himself, she raised one blond eyebrow and Kili chuckled quietly, leading her to a seat in between Fili and himself. Ori came around with her plate of five pieces of crispy bacon, four sausages, two eggs, and a handful of cubed potatoes. She smiled up at the dwarf who nodded with a flushed smile of his own before disappearing back into the kitchen. She stared around the table. Balin and Bofur were talking to Oin and Gloin, Dori and Nori were finishing their meals, Bifur was absently staring into space, and Fili was attempting to steal a piece of bacon. Nemea wrapped one of her hands around his wrist, still staring forward, and quietly bent it at a funny angle. He dropped the piece of meat and rubbed his sore wrist, giving Nemea an expression of slight irritation. She tapped his head affectionately and shivered as Kili's hand crawled under her arm to grab a sausage. Nemea turned to glare at him and Kili laughed quietly, putting his hands up in defense before casually leaning against the wall to grin cheekily at her, it was also around this time that the woman noticed Dwalin and Thorin were missing.

"They went to get the ponies." Kili whispered, and still wary of the younger dwarf, Nemea angled her body to stare at him. "I think he sent Gandalf to get some last minute supplies." She turned her attention back to her plate to find all of her bacon missing. She slowly turned to glare at Fili, flicking one of his moustache braids, as she quickly finished her sausages before Kili could get his hands on them. When the first light of dawn crept into the window, the dwarves made for the door and soon left Bag End behind them. They met Dwalin and Thorin at the stables were they were given sixteen ponies, one presumably for Bilbo (on Gandalf's request, no doubt), a horse for Gandalf and an extra pony to carry supplies. With Thorin at the head and his nephews at the rear, Gandalf and one of the extra pony's named Myrtle stayed near the end of the line and Nemea was content to walk alongside him.

"Do you not require a horse, lass?" Bofur asked from in front of her.

"Believe me, Master Dwarf, I'm much faster on foot." To demonstrate this, she carefully placed herself beside Kili and slapped her hand against his mount's rear. With a whiny of terror, the small horse took off past Thorin and the dwarves watched as Nemea kept up with the beast, eventually getting it to stop. Gandalf had rode up to Thorin and smiled knowingly as Nemea guided pony and dwarf back to the main group.

"Just what have you brought on this journey?" Thorin asked quietly, ignoring the woman's laughter and giving Gandalf an accusatory look.

"I'm sure she will tell you, when the time comes."

"Then when am I to expect an answer? She is…"

"Strange, I know, but trust me on this." Thorin sighed heavily as they passed the last of the hobbit holes. It wasn't very far from this area that the dwarves could hear someone calling them in the distance, Nemea's lips curled into a smile and she looked over her shoulder to see Bilbo running after them.

"I signed it," he stated proudly, passing the long piece of paper to Balin and winking at Nemea.

"Everything seems to be in order, welcome to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Mr. Baggins." Bilbo turned his cheerful gaze to Thorin who ordered that a pony be given to the Halfling. Once placed on the horse by the Durin brothers, Nemea fell in beside him and smiled brightly at him. Bilbo nodded distractedly, his brows drawn together and his mouth was a pronounced frown, he held the reins of his pony up at his chest and wobbled every once and a while when the pony would shake her hair out of her face.

"Her name is Myrtle," Nemea said quietly, watching the dwarves toss small sacks of gold between them. "And she can sense your discomfort."

"Don't be ridiculous." Myrtle jumped up and reared her head, neighing loudly as Bilbo moved to right himself.

"I know animals, Little One, she will not respect you if you can't show confidence." Bilbo was about to make another retort when Myrtle suddenly stopped and refused to move. Glowering at Nemea, Bilbo pressed his legs into the beast's ribs and flicked the reins. Myrtle stubbornly stayed put. Groaning as the other dwarves passed him by and watching as a particularly large sack of gold soared into Gandalf's hand, Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest.

"Making bets on my riding abilities?" he asked indignantly.

"No, no, my dear hobbit; these are from another bet. Whether or not you would show up although I dare say, you've given them the idea." Nemea and Bilbo looked up just in time to see Fili and Kili's maniacal smiles before they faced forward again. Nemea grabbed the reins from Bilbo and tugged Myrtle forward, growling at the pony when she would not move.

"This is going to be a long journey, isn't it?" Bilbo said quietly, sneezing into a handkerchief that he pulled out of his waistcoat.

"I would be lying if I said no."

* * *

Thorin wanted to avoid Bree at all costs, he didn't want to risk suspicion or be recognized by the wandering folk that often frequented the village. True, the exiled prince had met Gandalf at the Prancing Ponyand enjoyed the stay but he still deemed it unwise to travel there and that drove the company of thirteen dwarves, a wizard, and a wild woman to cross the Brandywine River. But that particular route determined by Thorin took them near the Old Forest and of that, Gandalf, Bilbo, and Nemea were all at varying degrees of discomfort. It would've been wise, Gandalf had said, for the company to stop in Buckland to gather more supplies as Bilbo had relatives there, not to mention that if Thorin was set on avoiding Bree until they were on the Great East Road, more food was definitely required. Bilbo was just plain uncomfortable either way, he was sure that a few rambunctious cousins had made bets on whether or not he would ever go on an adventure…or if he would ever marry.

"Could we not have passed through Buckland instead?" Nemea asked in a hushed voice, eyeing Thorin from her place beside Bilbo. She had crossed into the Old Forest before Bilbo was born and knew well enough that the forest was a sentient being capable of confusing anyone stupid enough to go inside. Back in the First Age of Middle-Earth, the Old Forest was part of Fangorn Forest where the trees were rumoured to move and talk. Nemea frowned as she cast a sideways glance at the wood, remembering a time when a branch had somehow curled around her ankle and lifted her high in the air only to slam her back into the earth. Bilbo followed his friend's stare and furrowed his brow anxiously, the trees were swaying but there was no breeze. The dwarves regarded the Old Forest with mixed expressions of awe and anxiety; they were the only ones travelling this road and they could hear whispers all around them.

"Yes but I doubt Thorin will take any advice you are willing to give him." Nemea turned her attention back to Bilbo and smirked, noticing how he raised his chin and shut his eyes in a very snotty way. From behind them, Fili and Kili started giggling like little girls, shoving each other playfully while mimicking the look Bilbo put on. Nemea patted his shoulder encouragingly as Thorin and Gandalf lead the troupe out from the under the trees branches as they twisted up into the sunlight or down into the faces of the travellers. The sun had started to set, painting the sky in pale orange light while the clouds darkened to midnight blue. Nemea ran up to join the front of the line and grabbed Gandalf's reins, forcing his horse to stop.

"We should not go any further; it is not safe to continue so close to nightfall…much less settle so close to the Barrow Downs." The wizard looked up and surveyed the path ahead with cautious eyes. A strange, white mist had started to slither up towards them and Gandalf nodded.

"Nemea is right. It would be better to travel on in the morning."

"I will not stop on the account of some silly fairy tales." The dwarf said stubbornly and Nemea gave him an incredulous look before throwing her hands in the air and stalking away from him. She joined up with the others and crossed her arms over her chest, the sky darkening slowly as the wind picked up, a few stray leaves blew into her face. In the time that Nemea had gone to Gandalf and Thorin, Ori had snuck away from his brothers and chose to ride close to the hobbit and his golden lady, and as she relayed the conversation – short as it was – Ori was quick to pipe up.

"What fairy tales?" Nemea squeezed her eyes shut and hummed.

"The Barrow Downs. They held the bodies of the Kings of Men from the First Age. The Witch-King Angmar sent many evils there in the form of tortured souls and demons, and they now inhabit the corpses of the kings. No one has ever returned from that place, it would be best to avoid it completely. We should turn around or at the very least, camp out here until daylight. Night come too quickly in these parts." A low moan sounded from far ahead of them carried on the wind and Thorin moved his horse away from the mist.

"We shall rest here for the night." Thorin called back to the others. "Nemea, you take first watch." They made camp far away from the road, out of the reach of the Old Forest, and far enough away so the mist rising from the Barrow Downs wouldn't touch them. Gloin had fixed a fire big enough to warm all thirteen dwarves and their wizard and burglar, but Nemea (who hadn't been given any title as of yet) had chosen to sit on the very edge of the orange light, her green-blue eyes trained on the darkness and the rest of her senses on alert. She was so focused that she didn't even hear Gandalf as he leaned on a rock to her right, dividing his attention between her and the dwarves. He blew a puff of smoke into the air that shifted into a fuzzy lion cub, the creature running and bumping into Nemea's head as it healed the small bump on her head from her collision with the bookcase earlier than morning.

"What do you see?" the Istari asked lowly, the smoke distracting her vigilant watch. Nemea frowned, digging her fingers into the earth.

"Nothing but a darkness I cannot see through. Curse the stubbornness of dwarves." She pulled her braid back over her shoulder and played with the ends.

"We are well away from them, Nemea, take heart."

"I would prefer the safety of Brandy Hall." She replied stoutly and got up to stretch her arms above her head. Nemea wasn't going to sleep tonight, she didn't trust any of the dwarves to stay put, to not be tempted with the idea to see if the legends were true. As she sat back down, narrowing her eyes as the scent of death crawled forth from the mist, Nemea knew that the legends were true. The moment dusk hit the valley; she could see their robed figures slither out of their graves, limping in search of prey.

*/*/*

Nemea had slid down her hill and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and letting her forehead fall forward into her chest. Not very comfortable. Nemea only slept for an hour when she realized something was amiss. Looking behind her at the dying firelight, she counted the bodies all lying around the pile of charred logs. There were thirteen dwarves plus Gandalf, Bilbo, and herself. Two bedrolls were absent. She rolled around the hill and crept down to where her companions slept, keeping close to the ground as she sniffed the air. The dwarves all smelled the same really; dirt, blood, sweat, leather, etcetera. But the Ri brothers smelled something like finery, new clothes and polished metal. Thorin and his nephews all smelled like coat and fire from the forge but Fili smelled like vanilla, like it was braided into his hair like the silver beads he was so proud of. Nemea liked them because they had lions carved in them.

Kili smelled like chocolate and wood shavings, she had seen him and Bofur talking over these tiny carving with mischievous looks in their eyes. Nemea would find out later that the two of them had carved all the members of the company. The wild woman imagined the Durin boys getting into baking accidents with their mother on so many occasions that the scents just stuck with them. Thorin also had the scent of a wolf on him, Nemea guessed the fur on his coat was left over from a wolf he had slain.

Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur all had varying scents about them; Bombur almost also smelled of some exotic spice or rich food (which made it difficult for Nemea to not want to eat him all the time), while the other too smelled like wood and metal and children. The scent Nemea called "children" was the smell of daisies and the earth mixed with fruit juice.

Of the Ri brothers, little Ori smelled like ink which made a lot of sense as he was named the company's scribe. Nori carried the dirt road on him; Nemea recognized Gondor and Rohan on his boots and in between his fingers. Dori smelled very much like a refined party filled with all the vine and vale the world could offer. Oin and Gloin constantly smelled of burning wood on them but the elder dwarf had numerous plant smells on him for his various healing ointments. Balin reminded Nemea of an owl that had been encased in those silly mothballs that formed in the pockets of Bungo's jackets. Dwalin smelled like Nemea after a successful hunt, various animals' scents adorned his clothing.

Either way, the two scents missing were vanilla and chocolate. She left the bedrolls alone, sparing a look to Bilbo before running off into the mist. You couldn't tell in the dark but Nemea's eyes had brightened into two yellow orbs that seemed to glow in the dark, true, her vision became clearer but she still saw no sign of Fili and Kili. A loud moan sounded to her left and she dropped to the floor, holding her breath as soft footsteps passed her by. After the figure had disappeared into the night, Nemea stood slowly and clutched both her hand and her stomach; she felt sick and sleepy and wanted nothing more for the sun to rise.

_"Cold be hand and heart and bone _

_And cold be sleep under stone." _

Nemea paused and turned in a full circle, trying to discern the location of the voice. It tickled her ears and made her skin crawl but it was so soft and so near, so sad and full of longing. But it didn't hide the roughness or the way the words slurred into one another as if the singer was falling asleep himself. The tone was dead.

"_Never more to wake on stony bed _

_Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." _

She walked on, following the voice as it guided her amongst the rolling hills and pale stone crypts where no flowers ever grew. Past the glinting armour robed in darkness, deep into caverns untouched by sunlight. Down, down, down, down. Something inside Nemea told her not to continue but she couldn't quite remember why there was, this place didn't seem dangerous…the voices just sounded so lonely. The air around her began to thicken, there was no cool breeze at her back and Nemea caught sight of her leader as he appeared in a sort of greenish light. She couldn't see his face, only a helmet made to cover most of his face but his jaw hung at a funny angle. He beckoned to her with a bony finger, curling it in a grotesque fashion that made what little flesh hang there fall off. Nemea's eyes dimmed back to the greenish-blue colour it had been before but with a glassier look to them.

"_In the black wind the stars shall die _

_And still be gold here let them lie _

_Till the Dark Lord lifts his hand over dead sea and withered land."_

Nemea saw two little bodies clothed in white and bound in gold, their faces serene and pale. Vanilla and chocolate. Strange scents…Familiar ones…? Nemea felt the touch of ice on her skin before she fell and knew no more.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Sorry for the long wait between chapters, my laptop is on his last legs so I'll be using the family's desktop computer instead and saving my files on a flash drive.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been putting this on their Favorites and Alerts and I'll see if I can update this story...every Sunday maybe?**

**On a separate note: Would anyone like to see some Bilbo/Thorin in this story as well?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Bonds**

Bilbo couldn't sleep. He had been pushed up against a rock by Bofur in attempts to keep the little hobbit warm but now all Bilbo could think of was how his back would ache in the morning. Oh yes, this adventuring business was _such_ a good idea. Not only had he somehow managed to upset Thorin by his mere arrival but he was constantly at the end of everyone's jokes. Ori at least had the decency to treat him with some respect and Bofur was rather nice –sometimes a little too nice – Bilbo also seemed to catch the attention of Fili and Kili. The boys could be very helpful, sometimes sharing tips for travelling but most of the time they just made fun of him, not anything mean but…teasing. Lots of it. Nemea took the journey in stride, she wasn't bothered by the noise or the weather and she was more than content to walk quietly beside him with a soft smile on her face. Bilbo wondered how excited she was to be going home.

The hobbit sighed deeply at the thought. Nemea had been away from home for sixty years, she had been running from death and sorrow and the corpses of her family and friends. Bilbo wondered what she thought about all this, the quest to take back Erebor from a vicious dragon that may or may not be sleeping in the mountain. Bilbo knew his friend was strong but he wasn't sure if she could take down a fire drake. Yawning, he rolled onto his other side, away from Bofur's ridiculous pigtails, and suddenly stopped. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. Bilbo pulled himself out from between the rock and Bofur and looked around the dim firelight for Gandalf, the old wizard was leaning against a taller rock near Nemea's watch point – Bilbo froze. The little hill was unoccupied. Nemea was _gone_. Stepping around the other dwarves and being extra careful around Dwalin, Bilbo ran to Gandalf to wake him up and froze a second time when he saw that Gandalf's eyes were _open_.

"Gandalf?" he ventured nervously, reaching out to tug on his silver scarf. The wizard snorted in his sleep and leaned forward into Bilbo's face; the hobbit withheld a small shriek of surprise and reluctantly put his arms out to catch the man by his shoulders.

"Bilbo?" Gandalf wondered, not sounding asleep at all. "Whatever is the matter?"

"It's Nemea," the hobbit said, his eyes darting around the camp. "She's gone." Gandalf pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Nemea's hill and stared at it a moment, a strange look passing over his face. He turned abruptly and walked down to the campsite, his robes billowing about him as he shook his head.

"I'm afraid she's not the only member missing. Get up, all of you!" Gandalf thrust the end of his staff into Bombur's side and quickly began shaking everyone awake although he didn't quite make it to Thorin who was already on his feet and reaching for his sword by the time Dwalin roared awake at the touch of Gandalf's staff. Bilbo stood off to the side as Thorin's eyes found him in the dark then left just as quickly to glare at Gandalf.

"What is it?" he asked grumpily, leaning on the hilt of his sword.

"Your nephews and Nemea are missing." Thorin looked to the boys' bed rolls and a look of dread came over his face. He started walking in the direction of the mist with Dwalin fast behind him. Gandalf pulled the head of his staff down and withdrew a crystal from his sleeve, he blew into the gem and it lit up with a bright white-orange light as he stuck it into his walking stick. Balin ordered everyone to pack up Fili and Kili's things, to douse the fire, and clean up their sleeping area. Thorin waited for the wizard to light their path before the dwarves set off into the darkness of the Barrow Downs.

Even with the light of Gandalf's staff, they saw very little aside the dark green grass under their feet and a few shattered tombs; out of the group Bilbo and Ori had the sharpest eyes and walked up with Thorin and the wizard. Though he didn't notice, Bilbo led the group around the various twists and turns, around cracked crypts.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been here before." Gandalf noted cheerfully which sounded really weird given the circumstance.

"Oh no, not me," the hobbit chuckled nervously. "Mother travelled through here in the daytime, I think she even took the time to map it out before Father burned it."

"Why'd he burn it?" Ori asked curiously, stopping to ask his question and bumping into Dwalin by accident. The smaller dwarf stuttered around his apology, looking to his brothers for help, but Dwalin merely clapped his shoulder and turned him back to face the front. The action brought a small smile to Bilbo's face.

"My father was a Baggins and that meant he was as far away from adventure as west was from east. But my mother was a Took and Took's often get into trouble," he looked up at Gandalf as he sniffed the air. "I don't think you ever told me what happened to Uncle Isengar." The wizard looked down at the hobbit with a twinkle in his eyes, muttering a "never you mind, Master Baggins" and then chuckling at some memory in his past. Probably thinking about Isengar, Bilbo hoped. They continued on in the dark, staring around the pitch blackness around him and listening hard for any signs of the boys and Nemea. Gandalf paused and look off to the side.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Oin wanted to know and Bilbo quickly wiped the smile from his face when he realized Oin probably couldn't hear a great many things.

"It came from around here…"the wizard gestured vaguely over a patch of earth. He looked up at the sky and mumbled something under his breath. The dwarves watched anxiously and Thorin stood like a statue on the edge of the light.

"Where are they?" the prince asked gravely, his axe and sword hung limply at his sides.

"I do believe they are beneath us. Do we not have a shovel?" Ori leapt forth with one and Nori closed in behind him, Bofur held up his pickaxe questioningly and Gandalf nodded. He waved his staff over the earth. "Here." Immediately, the three dwarves started ripping into the earth, Dwalin got down on his knees and dug up the earth with his hands. Bilbo, not wanting to be useless as his friend was down there as well, pulled a shovel over and stabbed it into the ground. He had dug his garden out so this, he reasoned, shouldn't be very difficult. But the ground was hard and dry, it seemed like the elements were too afraid to grant it fertility and the dwarves worked very hard to even make a hole to see through and when they did, Bilbo saw inside first.

It was a great chamber, old trees roots wound themselves around white stone pillars and Bilbo looked up and noticed that there were no longer any trees around them now. He peered inside once more and saw several greenish figures all wearing the regal armour of the kings of old and at once he stared at Fili and Kili. They were both dressed in pure white tunics with golden belts but Bilbo also realized that there were golden chains around their wrists and ankles, jeweled swords lay at their sides. Bilbo relayed this information to the company and Thorin frowned.

"What is this?"

"A sacrificial ceremony, I believe. Where is Nemea?" Gandalf had to put his hand out to stop Thorin from grabbing his axe to break open the dirt. Bilbo stuck his eye into the hole and noticed that a little farther from the brothers was another slab of flat rock. Nemea lay with the most peaceful look on her face and she wore a long white dress, her hair was unbraided and like the boys, she too wore a golden belt and was further bound in gold. Three of the greenish figures stepped forth and Bilbo saw three glittering swords in their hands.

"They're going to kill them!" The hobbit whispered in a panicked voice. "We've got to hurry!" He took up his shovel and raised it into the air. Gandalf put his hand around the shovel and stopped it.

"Not yet." Thorin took a step forward, brandishing his axe threateningly.

"What?"

"Not yet." Gandalf repeated, as if he was scolding some petulant child. This the dwarf king didn't like and he raised his axe to strike the ground. Gandalf swiped the weapon from Thorin's grasp and tossed it to Dwalin. "When I say "not yet", Thorin Oakenshield, I mean it. Look." He pointed at the horizon.

"With the sunlight and when I say so." He gave them all a hard look and Bilbo stared into the hole again. The Barrow-wights were taking slow steps so they could stand beside the bodies of Fili, Kili, and Nemea with their swords poised to strike. A low chant rumbled from beneath their feet as Gandalf began to mutter in an ancient language, Bilbo and Thorin each looked to the distance for the first spark of red light. The light from Gandalf's staff had begun to glow brighter as well and when the wizard shouted for them to start, Bilbo was yanked back by his coat as Bombur jumped onto the dirt. Everyone struck the ground with their weapons and as the sun's light streaked over their heads and the earth gave way with a tumultuous crack. A burst of light zinged from Gandalf's staff like an arrow, sinking into the back of each Barrow-wights. Their swords fell to the ground in a cluttered mess, their bodies dissolving into green mist that rose into the air only to be burned by the sun's rays. Shouts rang out as the spirits disappeared and Thorin ran to his nephews, putting his hands on their faces.

Fili was the first to wake, staring up at his uncle with a confused expression before his sat up and raised a hand to rub his face, his noticed the golden chain while his other hand gripped tightly around the sword at his side. The sound of that sword against the gold was what woke Kili and together the brothers broke free of their bindings, damaging the swords greatly. Fili kicked his broken blade away and walked right to Dwalin who held his twin swords. He twirled them around in his hands and let out a pleased sigh, "Much better." He looked over to where Bilbo was and rolled his eyes as the hobbit tried to pull the gold chains from Nemea's wrists. Nemea opened one eye and chuckled, her low voice breaking Bilbo out of his frenzy.

"Are you alright?" she sat up slowly and rubbed her head, staring at the hole in the roof and then at the dress with a frown.

"Fine." She looked at Fili. "You!" She slid off the stone, nearly tripping over her dress, and retched one of her arms free. "Curse your stubbornness!" the woman hissed angrily, her one hand reaching for the blond dwarf's face. When she found it, her palm cupped his cheek and she let out a relieved sigh, only to slap him across the face seconds later. Fili stumbled to one side, rubbing his face with a laugh before walking back and fumbling with the chain fragment around her wrist.

"Relax, Nim, we're fine." Fili said with a weak smile, using Bilbo's nickname to calm her down. Kili slipped off his rocky bed and continued to stagger to his brother and clumsily wrap his arms around his blond sibling.

"Yeah. Not a scratch on either of us." Nemea narrowed her eyes at the dwarfling and growled, pulling her other arm free and snarling at the gold.

"Had I not noticed you gone, had Gandalf and Bilbo not noticed _us_ gone, we could have all died." Understand, Nemea was not especially mad at the dwarves; it was more a motherly worry that seemed to transfer from Bilbo to them. Once her feet were properly unbound, she put her hands on Kili's face and checked him thoroughly for any markings.

"We had nothing to worry about, Uncle would have found us." Kili smiled back at Thorin who managed a tired smile n return.

"Not the point." Nemea finished angrily. "Next time, listen to your elders."

"You can't be _that_ old." Fili elbowed Kili in the ribs. "I mean, surely you are our age." Nemea rolled her eyes at Kili's sweet tone and bent down to touch her forehead to each of theirs and while they didn't quite understand why she did so, they resisted the urge to butt heads with her and settled for closing their eyes as she did. She leaned back with a wide grin and put an arm around Bilbo's shoulders.

"In truth, I am only a few years older than your Uncle." Kili looked shocked.

"No!"

"Indeed, I celebrated my 205th birthday back in the winter."

"Surely you are joking." Kili choked, he had found Nemea very beautiful but to learn that she was ten years older than his uncle made him feel a slight bit uneasy. Nemea merely smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Oh, wee lamb." He swatted her hands away and swiftly climbed out of the hole as the woman's laughter floated up after him.

* * *

After that unfortunate encounter, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield did indeed turn right around and passed through Buckland, replenishing their supplies and heading out and around the Old Forest. Everyone had all but forgotten the ordeal with the exception of Ori who was hurriedly taking down notes of their travels and racking his brain for a clearer picture of the Barrow-wights as he was too afraid to ask Gandalf for a proper picture. Fili and Kili had recovered from their brush with death and were back to their old ways, teasing Bilbo when Nemea wasn't looking and when she was looking – something about her motherly bond with Bilbo seemed to amuse them whenever she stepped in to save him even if afterwards she was quick to remind him that she may not be around forever. In the time during the trip through Buckland and when they had made it safely onto the Great East Road, everyone was in mostly good spirits.

Thorin led the group onto a large hill where a great rock grew out of the ground serving as shelter for maybe four of the dwarves at a time. Fili and Kili, being princes, took the little outcropping of stone for themselves and graciously shared it with everyone's packs. Thorin sat himself in a small dent in the rock and closed his eyes to "plan the path ahead" as he put it while everyone else found their own patch of ground to sleep on. Nemea had curled up with her back against Gandalf's side, watching Balin and the boys blow smoke rings as Gloin built a fire that lit up the area. On this hilltop, one could see everything and there was no mist or cloud over the skies although Balin still insisted that it would rain later. Bilbo had joined in a brief contest with the dwarves on who could form the largest ring and he unfortunately lost to Balin who had years of experience on him; Bilbo wasn't completely bothered by it though as he was nestled against Nemea's stomach, her arms wrapped around his belly and her legs curling around him. Kili had been snickering at the pair of them since night hit and Nemea was quick to point out that Kili was slowly leaning on his brother for support – she had the nerve to call him an "adorable little princeling" which drove the younger brother to the far side of the cave.

As most of the company began dropping into dreamland, Thorin said that Fili and Kili would take first watch. So Nemea rolled onto her stomach and cupped her arms behind her head as Bilbo curled into her side like a baby, fisting his hands around her shirt. When Nemea had been pulled out of the hole, she had promptly ripped the dress off with her claws. Bilbo was just thankful that her regular clothes were still on because that would have made things very difficult but Bilbo had known Nemea to go without clothing for extended periods of time. There used to be a rumour among the tweens that a golden elf would run through the forests naked at night, Bilbo chuckled at the thought and Nemea put her hands into his hair and massaged his head, her way of telling him to be quiet.

Bilbo soon started dreaming of his home, of his chair and pipe by the fire, his garden and his books…and snoring? Bilbo jerked awake, noticing that the sky was darker and that that it was Gloin who was snoring, a group of moths got pulled into the dwarf's mouth and then blown back out alive. Bilbo put a hand over his mouth and swallowed the bile working its way up his throat; he stood up and carefully stepped over his travelling companion and produced an apple from his pocket. He looked over both shoulders and patted Myrtle's head affectionately. His original distain for the beast had died over the past couple of weeks as some of his cousins gave him riding tips and moreover, Myrtle neither teased nor belittled him. His was very confident in his riding now and the pony responded very well to that fact, even if she was terribly afraid of the wild woman who walked beside her. All of the ponies had some note of unease around the woman except for Gandalf's horse; Nemea had met his mount before.

"That's a good girl, Myrtle, this is our little secret." He smiled and put a finger to his lips. "You must tell no one." Nemea rolled back onto her side and snorted at him and then stiffened as a high-pitched scream echoed in the night air. She got up and walked past Bilbo as he ran towards Fili and Kili. Across the darkness, across the hill they slept on, there was a valley of impassable trees and on the other side there was another rocky cliff filled with evergreen trees. Nemea's eyes were not as sharp the eyes of the Elves but for a moment…she thought she might have seen something.

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams, just lots of blood." Nemea looked over her shoulders as the boys laughed at Bilbo's obvious distress but at the same time, she saw Thorin get up from his rock and walk towards his wards.

"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" Fili shut his eyes and rolled his shoulders almost as if he knew what was coming before giving Thorin his full attention, Kili on the other hand kept his head down.

"We didn't mean anything by it." He said quietly, avoiding Thorin's eyes.

"No, you didn't," Thorin said bitterly. "You know nothing of the world." The dwarf prince came to stand beside Nemea but she doubted that he had any indication that they were being watched, if her eyes proved right anyway. She lowered herself onto the edge of the cliff and pulled one leg up to her chest, leaning her arm over it and tipping her head back to sniff the air.

"Balin may be right about the rain." She said softly, twisting her hair around and tying it into a knot. She could hear Balin telling Bilbo and the boys about the start of Thorin's vendetta against orcs but then again, it wasn't hard to hate their race. They were crude and brutal in warfare with no sense of loyalty or honor and the _smell_. The stench of rotting flesh and blood was so distinct that very few were keen on forgetting it. Nemea hadn't fought orcs in a long time since leaving Erebor, there was a time when she and a young dwarf often travelled around and hunted orcs for fun. Nemea smirked. That sounded a lot like something Fili and Kili would do. She took a deep breath and choked, aside from the stench of orc there was one other scent familiar to her. Gundabad wargs. They smelled smoothing fierce and wild and altogether evil. Interestingly enough, Thorin had already walked back to his seat and everyone was awake and in awe of their leader. When Erebor fell, many of the dwarves spread out across the land trying to find work to support them and their families and gave up hope on reclaiming their home. The Battle of Azanulbizar was probably not that well known.

"And the pale orc, what happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole from whence he came. That _filth_ died of his wounds long ago." Nemea looked back at the others and saw Balin and Gandalf share a look. Apparently, that statement wasn't all that true.

*/*/*

Nemea should have brought a cloak. In fact, she should have brought much more than the nothing she had packed in her non-existent sack. Her hair clung to her skin and her clothes were heavy with water and sliding over her shoulders and hips, she was partly thankful for the belt that kept her skirt secure but she honestly wanted nothing more than to strip down and run ahead of the rain. Bilbo had read her mind; he saw the slight curve of her lips and the way her thumbs slipped between the waistband and her skin. He slapped her hand with a shake of his head and Nemea groaned. Were rain a real person, Nemea would spend a great amount of time in tearing him limb from limb. She hadn't spoken a word since the downpour started and every time someone asked if she was alright, Nemea gave them a glare and a growl and started walking faster. At this point, she was close to the front of the line and stuck close to Gandalf, hoping his tall frame might catch the raindrops before they hit her. This was not the case as the rain fell straight and true, right on top of her head.

"It's your own fault." Bilbo said from under the safety of his own forest green cloak (one that Nemea packed for him). She looked over and her eyes were bordering on yellow.

"Indeed. Methinks I should have neglected to pack your things for you, Little One, that way we could both suffer under such hardship." Before the rain, Nemea had caught Ori drawing her portrait and spied upon some of his early writing of their quest and learned a few words. She took a lot of pride when Ori nodded his head at her correct use of the words. Bilbo looked like he had been slapped across the face and Nemea stuck out her tongue and shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms and walking a little faster.

"You could always Change." The hobbit suggested and Nemea laughed.

"There will be a time for that, Dear One, and it is not now." From ahead of her, Thorin spared a look over his shoulder as Nemea's eyes burned yellow.

* * *

The Company had stopped at the River Hoarwell, a river that flowed down from the Misty Mountains before cutting through the Ettenmoors to meeting the Loudwater River. The rain had stopped and Nemea was lying on the grass and taking a short nap before they travelled beyond the river and into the Trollshaws, hoping there wouldn't be any trolls. Not that she had ever seen trolls before, she had seen a few pictures and heard a few stories but she otherwise had no experience. Nemea rolled onto her stomach and watched the ponies drink their fill, pausing when she noticed Thorin and his pony Minty. The dwarf prince shook his head over one of his shoulders and he adjusted his mount's saddle when the pony mirrored his action. Thorin chuckled quietly and rubbed the pony's neck affectionately, flipping the rest of his hair over his shoulders and smiling when Minty repeated the action. The golden-haired woman sat up and stretched her arms over her head, a peculiar sound coming out of her mouth. Dori was the closet dwarf to her and he leaned over as Nemea licked her lips and stood up.

"Did you just _purr_?" the dwarf asked curiously, his voice climbing up an octave.

"Of course, don't all people purr contently after a nap?" she looked over and Dori huffed embarrassedly at her teasing tone. "If you want to believe it was a purring noise, I'll not stop you." She pulled off her fur lined boot and started walking through the water, it was shallow enough for the dwarves to cross. Bilbo stayed atop Myrtle to avoid wetting his pants (something Nemea would tease him about later, no doubt) but the dwarves stayed atop their mounts for completely different reasons. It was commonly known (among hobbits) that hobbits couldn't swim or at least, not very many could swim. Bilbo only liked going swimming when he was safe on Nemea shoulders but now he was much too old to be doing something so foolish and he contented himself with dipping his toes in the water. Dwarves on the other hand were much heavier than hobbits and were more prone to drowning; even in shallow water, dwarves sunk a fair bit. Nemea tried not to laugh at the bottoms of Gandalf's robes as the water slowly climbed up the fabric. When they had crossed the river, Nemea spied a crumbling structure in the distance and eagerly ran ahead to check it out. She crouched down outside the doorframe, the door itself had been tossed off to the side and yard in two pieces some feet away; she ran her hand along the floor and scrunched up her nose. The scent of human blood stained the wood and she picked up a small tooth and let it fall into her palm.

"A farmer and his family used to live here." Gandalf murmured from behind her and Nemea shook her head. The roof had giant holes in it and the windows had been ripped open wider, the floorboards were cracked and a strange odour polluted the air. Nemea growled and stared around the hills, carefully looking back at the others as they rested at various spots around the farmhouse.

"I smell Trolls…three of them judging by the smell."

"How long ago were they here?"

"A week…maybe two. Long enough for the wildlife to start taking over." She plucked a leaf from one of the many vines growing up the side of the house. Gandalf shook his head and backed up a few steps, looking around for Thorin as Nemea moved around the house. She picked up the faint scents of the farmer and his wife along with their child in parts of the house, finding dried blood on the walls and strips of clothing that Nemea guessed belonged to the wife because they smelled awfully sweet.

"I think it would be wiser to move on." Gandalf said with uneasily. "We could make for the Hidden Valley." Nemea's ears perked at the thought as she edged back around the house and watched the dwarves dismount and set down their bedrolls, Fili and Kili were looking around the area for a proper place to take the ponies. She spied Bilbo with Balin and started making her way there but not before watching Gandalf shake his head and walk on ahead of her.

"Everything alright?" Bilbo asked as they approached. "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." The wizard responded grumpily, Nemea raised an eyebrow.

"And who would that be?" Gandalf looked over his shoulder with a slight glare.

"Myself!"

*/*/*

That night when everyone was properly fed, Nemea chose to sleep in the broken house so she could keep both a proper eye on the dwarves she could she and listen to Fili and Kili in the forest as they managed the ponies. Bilbo had gone forth to deliver the boys some food, they had been very quiet lately and Nemea started to worry but now she could hear their voices as they spoke with the hobbit. The thought crossed her mind that she ought to tell Thorin about the probability of trolls nearby but given the fact that he didn't listen to her the last time with the damn Barrow-wights, she opted to stay quiet. That pride was a trait passed from her father's side of the family, Nemea's mother was very quick to make that point extra clear. Nemea rested her head on her arms, she had been lying on her stomach, and she lowered her gaze. Returning to Erebor meant finding the remains of her kin, of her parents and two brothers…and her mate. She sat up immediately and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to blot out the tears, the cord around her neck seemed to choke her and Nemea was suddenly aware of the crystal dangling under her collar bone.

"Miss Nemea?" the wild woman stiffened and lowered her hands, happy that the darkness cast a heavy shadow over her face. She leaned forward into the firelight which just barely touched her and smiled softly at Ori as he looked to the space beside her.

"Something you need?" she wondered and Ori carefully dropped down beside, oddly lacking his book and quill.

"You…looked rather lonely up here, all by yourself. I-I can go…"

"No, no. I don't mind your company." She lay back down but on her side this time so she could look at Ori's face. He was certainly young with a thin beard of hair at his chin which climbed up the sides of his face. She noticed that unlike his older brothers, there were simple wooden beads in his hair and there weren't any elaborate braids.

"I assume your brothers did not want you to come." Nemea started slowly, looking up as Nori and Bofur started laughing at some outrageous joke at Dori's expense, the eldest Ri brother was smirking in a very angry sort of way.

"No, no, he didn't." Ori looked down. "Dori isn't that much of a fighter but he's done his fair share and Nori is…well, a bit a thief." Nemea was surprised although the dwarf had attempted to steal the silverware back at Bag End, why would Gandalf need to find a burglar if they already had Nori? She didn't get a chance to ask as Fili came tearing through the woods shouting about Kili and Bilbo facing three trolls in the forest. Nemea, all instincts, jumped to her feet and disappeared into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: **

It didn't take very long for Nemea to hear the heavy boots of the dwarves running behind her, most were following the yellowish light reflected off her hair as she sprinted ahead of them with her eyes trained on the glow of firelight. It looked like the trolls had cleared away a great number of trees to make something of a campsite and she saw that they had both cooking utensils and a huge pot. Bilbo had been thrown into Kili's arms and Nemea planted one foot on the falling dwarf's shoulder and leapt into the air, landing on a troll's arm and digging her claws into his thick skin. The troll howled in pain and Nemea hastily climbed onto his shoulder as the troll used his other hand to swat her away. The rest of the dwarves had joined the fray and Nemea briefly spared a look back in Bilbo's direction only to find him gone. Fili and Kili teamed up with the Ri brothers in attacking her current troll and Nemea saw Bilbo crawling over to the ponies with one of the trolls' crude daggers. Leaping off the shoulder of her enemy, she dove between his legs (mentally wiping her mind clean of the sight she was so foolish to look up at), and stabbed her fingers into one leg, grinning wilding as the troll clumsily shook his foot around. She swung around his leg and clawed at the sole of his foot; Nemea saw another troll coming towards her and jumped backwards. Cracking her knuckles menacingly, Nemea looked beside her and found Bombur giving her a frightened look.

"Your quite the fighter, Miss Nemea." He said and the woman was surprised at how soft his voice was in comparison to his brothers.

"I'm out of practice, been fighting nothing but wargs and wolves lately." Bombur kind of squeaked as the two of them skirted around another troll, the bigger dwarf wielding an impressive pitchfork that he gladly thrust into its leg. Nemea frowned. That was the downfall of fighting with such small companions, there was no way to hit any vital organs unless you were feeling really dirty. Nemea wasn't so she slashed from right to left until blackish-red blood spurted forth from the grey skin. Joined by Bofur and Bifur, Nemea sought out Ori and found him sandwiched between Dwalin and Nori, the sounds of battle slowly died down as she turned around. Two of the trolls held Bilbo high in the air by his arms and legs. Nemea growled and made to go after him but she felt a small hand close around her wrist and yank her back. It was Fili who had grabbed her and he looked anxiously to Thorin as one troll said:

"Lay down yer arms…or we'll wip his off!" Nemea snarled and the trolls took a few steps back, staring confusedly between each other. They pulled on the hobbit's limbs, grinning once the little creature started to whimper. Thorin lowered his gaze from the hobbit's and stabbed his sword into the ground, Kili practically threw his down and Ori in a very exaggerated movement threw down his slingshot. If they ever got out of this, Nemea would have to question the dwarf's choice in weaponry. So one by one, each dwarf was stripped of their armour and outer clothing, their hands were bound behind their backs and they were stuffed into dwarf-sized sacks. None of the trolls had dared to touch Nemea yet and chose instead to tie a few of the dwarves around a stick and turned them over the fire. And once Bilbo was dropped into a sack, two trolls advanced on the wild woman.

She hadn't stopped growling since their capture had begun but she begrudgingly held still as the trolls grabbed their remaining sacks, one was drawn over her legs and bound around her knees as her hands were tied behind her back, another sack fell over her head and a troll had been "kind" enough to rip a hole for her head to poke out of. The troll who faced the brunt of her attacks then picked her up by her feet, shook her around and dumped her on Thorin. She collided with his shoulder rather painfully and mumbled an apology before turning around and leaning against him.

"I thought you would look after him." Thorin hissed lowly, jerking his head towards Bilbo.

"Perhaps I shall when you learn to look after your nephews!" the woman answered fiercely, her eyes blazing yellow as she stared anxiously around the area. Oin and Kili had been dropped on top of her with Gloin and Fili lying beside them, Bombur was dropped in between Oin and Gloin. Nemea did not like where this was going or where she was likely to end up by morning because even if they escaped the sacks, troll skin was very hard and Nemea's claws didn't cut very deep. She looked at the troll she attacked the most, the bleeding had stopped and the skin was already scarring over nicely…or as nicely as troll skin could heal. If she could land more hits and tear open the skin, the dwarves would have an easier time doing some major damage. Hastily ducking into her sack, Nemea pulled her knees up her chest and started biting at the fabric, ripping nothing but small threads for a while until she choked on a particularly large wad of dirty cloth.

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage." One troll suddenly declared and Nemea growled, spitting out the cloth and scrapping her teeth over her tongue to try and remove the taste of dirt…or at least she _hoped_ it was only dirt.

"Wait! You are making a terrible mistake." Nemea nosed her head out of the sack and blew the loose strands of her hair out of her face.

"You can't reason with them, they're halfwits!" Dori shouted from his place on the spit.

"Halfwits? What does that make us?" Bofur questioned, trying to turn his head around and see where Dori was at. Nemea never noticed that Bofur's hair was actually in two pigtails that were able to stick out really well. She felt a little bad that she chose to notice that while the poor thing was slowly being roasted alive. Bilbo carefully sat up and leaned forward, awkwardly standing on his feet and hopping forward so he took the trolls attention off the dwarves.

"I meant with the, uh, with the seasoning." The hobbit elaborated.

"Wot about the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up." Nemea groaned and dropped her head onto her knees, rubbing her forehead against the rough cloth and shaking her head. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Thorin trying to bit his way out of his sack and various dwarves were calling Bilbo a traitor, Nemea seriously doubted any and all chance of them getting out alive. If there was one thing Bilbo was not very good at, it was lying. Well, that wasn't all true, Bilbo was an exceptional liar when he was a child and often blamed his cousins for things he did himself. Like breaking windows with stones or stealing fireworks. Nemea recalled a time when Bilbo tied Lobelia to a tree and left her out there till dark until he had to tell his parents where he had left the little tart.

If Nemea were to do that, she'd get kicked out of the Shire, she was told that many times by Bungo but that didn't stop her from creeping over to the Sackville Baggins house and crouching under Lobelia's window, making all sorts of noises that kept the hobbit up all night. Nemea attributed the nightly scares to Lobelia's irrational fear of the dark. And since Bilbo had become an adult at thirty years old, the two decades that followed were not as fun as they used to be. Bilbo took being master of Bag End very seriously and while he still practised his rock throwing (so much so that birds and squirrels ran from him), his prowess at lying quickly diminished.

There was a time when Nemea tried her hand at baking; something Bungo had once told her was very becoming for a young lady so she had tried a cookie recipe that used both chocolate and raisins. Bilbo told her they tasted amazing when the cookies themselves were burnt to a crisp. She would later argue that back home her people ate everything raw and cooking was not a huge deal.

"No, no, not that one he's infected!" Nemea blinked a few times and realized that a troll was dangling a rather distraught Bombur over his mouth.

"You wot?"

"Yeah, he's got worms in his…tubes." Nemea snorted. "In-in fact they all have, they're _infested_ with parasites. It's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites? Did he say "parasites"?" Oin wanted to know.

"We don't have parasites. _You_ have parasites!" Kili accused as the dwarves nearest Bilbo started kicking him and Fili seemed quite intent on biting the hobbit's ankles.

"Wot about this one?" a troll dragged Nemea up into the air and for once in her life, the woman was thankful that a burlap sack covered her private parts. "She ain't no dwarf."

"Well no but…but she'll give you terrible indigestion." Nemea glared at him with a look that read "I can handle myself, don't bother" but it was too late and the damage was already done. Of all the traits passed down by her father, Nemea was regrettably saddled with a prideful nature. Both she and her father preferred fighting their own battles and hated it when others fought for them.

"Indeed," she growled, "but if you eat the little one over there, it'll the most painful shit you've ever experienced….for three months." The dwarves shifted uneasily, it wasn't unheard for a woman to swear but when Nemea swore, it was like she was handing down your death sentence. Bilbo gaped at her, surprised at how angry she was when he was only trying to help. Setting his lips into a straight line and narrowing his eyes, he angled his body so he could stare at both the trolls and Nemea.

"I may do that but she'll rot your insides."

"He'll _eat_ your insides."

"Enough, you don't think I know what yer doing?" the troll holding Nemea shook her in Bilbo's direction and their heads cracked against one another's, Bilbo fell over Fili as Nemea swung back and forth with a growing headache, where was that damned wizard?

"These little _ferrets_ are taking us for fools!" Nemea swung up and snapped at the troll's face, he slammed her into the ground and Nemea yelped as the impact caused a sharp pain in her shoulder and felt it tingle all the way down to her fingertips. What she didn't fully realize was that she had fractured her shoulder. The troll continued to swing her around, knocking her against trees and dangling her dangerously close to the fire, all the while his nasally laugher rang in the air. The wild woman met Bilbo's eyes briefly before she shut them tightly and tried to stop herself from crying out again.

"Then…can I kill this one?" Nemea dropped to the ground, falling on her injured shoulder and she bit back a scream and glared, her eyes flickering between yellow and green-blue.

"I don't see why not."

"The dawn take you all and be stone to you!" _Took you long enough._

*/*/*

After the trolls were turned into three immovable statues, Gandalf moved to Nemea's side and withdrew a knife from inside his sleeve, he cut the sack away from her body and helped her sit up. Nemea groaned and leaned on his shoulder as Gandalf carefully pulled her arms back in front of her. Turning around, he sent small sparks from his staff that set the sack aflame without burning the dwarves, Bilbo tripped over his feet and ran to Nemea's other side and helped support her. Nemea's eyes opened at his touch but she refused to stare at anyone, her cheeks were flushed and a tiny amount of moisture touched her eyes.

"Does it hurt badly?" Bilbo asked as the dwarves moved behind them for their clothes and weapons.

"It isn't pain, Bilbo." The wizard said gently and he asked that the hobbit go and find Oin for him. In the meantime, he rubbed his fingers against Nemea's arm and clicked his tongue.

"I do believe it's broken. I can heal the bone if you like." Nemea shook her head.

"Just wrap it."

"Oh?" Gandalf's eyes twinkled at the small smile fighting its way onto the woman's face.

"I think I'll Change soon. That will make everything better." Towards the end of her sentence, she lowered her voice as Oin came around. The medic bound the wound in white cloth, Nemea occasionally winced in pain as it was tightened around her arm and chest but within minutes, she was walking around and quickly hopped onto a troll to survey the area. Thorin had disappeared behind a rock with his belongings as everyone else dressed in the open, all the brothers stuck together and helped tidy their appearances, she was especially touched when Fili sat his brother down and helped re-braid his hair. Bilbo didn't know what to do with himself to the longest time so he settled for sitting against the troll statue that she chose to sit on. He stared up at her for a second, waiting for her eyes to fall on him but they never did, Nemea kept her head high as the sun settled higher into the sky. Thorin reappeared from behind his rock, sparing a glance at the wild woman as she touched the bindings around her arm, and met with Gandalf to discuss things as Ori and Bifur were sent to retrieve the ponies and Gandalf's horse, they were told to by Balin who passed Fili and Kili and gave him reassuring smiles. Nemea looked back to the wizard and exiled prince as they realized that there had to be a troll cave nearby. Everyone got up and lined up behind Thorin, looking around for footprints or just hoping that the cave was hereby. Nobody was really interested in encountered more trolls.

"But how do we find a troll cave?" Bilbo asked. Nemea slid down and started walking beside him, being mindful of the sling her arm was in.

"When in doubt, Little One, follow your nose." Nemea said and she breathed in deeply. Pausing for a moment and scrunching up her face in disgust she started forwards into the trees, crouching for a minute and turning to the left. She stopped and looked at Thorin, pointing in front of her and beckoning for everyone to follow. After a few minutes that passed in awkward silence, Bilbo ran up and tugged on Nemea's skirt, an action that made a few of the dwarves chuckle. There were moments on the journey that made them seem like a mother and her concerned child, like when they settled for the night and Nemea curled her body around Bilbo or when she helped him over fallen trees or paused to fix his hair. Since the Barrow-wight incident, Nemea also kept an eye on Fili and Kili, the three of them sometimes took the night watch altogether and fell in and out of sleep. Although Thorin would never openly admit it, he liked that Nemea watched over them. Fili, Kili, and Ori were the youngest dwarves and everyone took an active role in looking after them. Dori was still hesitant about letting Ori alone with the woman and the only reason Nori allowed it was because he was equally curious about the woman.

"I'm sorry." The golden-haired woman looked down at him.

"For insulting me?" Bilbo groaned and put a hand over his eyes. "Don't be sorry. It was good use of your wit to distract them. You saw Gandalf?" she moved a low baring branch out of his face.

"Oh yes, just barely. I don't think the others appreciate my help though." Nemea looked back and saw that a few of the older members were still a little grumpy looking.

"Well, I forgive you. That is enough." Nemea put her hand out to stop the procession of warriors and looked left and right, sniffing the air and nodding. She pulled down a few branches and walked deeper into the foliage, they didn't hear her for a long time until the sound of her coughing reached their ears. Nemea proudly declared that she would not be entering and Thorin was welcome to thoroughly damage his nostrils. Bilbo followed her to a moss-covered rock where they both sat far from the cave and everyone else gathered around in their own little groups and waited for Thorin to come back. Dwalin, Gloin, Bofur, and Nori followed him down along with Gandalf. Dori didn't appear too pleased that Nori went down there, it was commonly known that trolls hoarded all sorts of precious things and among those were counted incredible boogers, scabs, and interestingly shaped bone fragments. It didn't take too long for them to return either and Nemea noticed that both the wizard and dwarf prince were sporting new swords. Thorin didn't seem very happy about it, Nemea thought, as he was frowning at the sword as he carried it out. Gandalf came over and presented the hobbit with a sword or rather a dagger.

"Here. This is about your size." Bilbo reached out to stroke the sheath of the dagger and then he pulled back, stumbling into Nemea. Belladonna had a dagger forged for her in Bree. He wondered where that old thing had disappeared to. Nemea quietly asked for the blade and pulled it out of its sheath by a few inches.

"I can't take this."

"It's an Elf blade, Little One. It's glows when enemies are close." Bilbo turned and took the blade, handed it back to Gandalf and looked between the taller people.

"I have never used a sword in my life."

"And I hope you never have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is not about knowing when to take a life but knowing when to spare one." He put the sword back into Bilbo hands and walked away. Nemea bent down in front of Bilbo and helped him fix the sheath in his belt, ignoring how some of the younger dwarves snickered at them. She adjusted his coat and moved some curls out of his face; Bilbo placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon and smiled to himself. He supposed that he could very well answer Thorin's initial question: Axe or sword? Nemea leaned forward and put their heads together.

"I am with you, Little One. Remember that."

"Something's coming!" someone shouted.

"Nim…"

"Keep close to me." The two of them joined the main group just as a short fellow dressed in brown with a silly hat on his head came into the clearing riding a sled drawn by rabbits. Bilbo saw the look in Nemea's eyes when she saw the rabbits and he put a hand on her arm.

"Don't even think about it," he said as the funny man stepped off his sled.

"I have no idea what you are speaking of." Nemea said as she licked her lips, the rabbits looked around nervously and huddled together to nibble grass, as if being together might intimidate the wild woman. It didn't. After Gandalf spoke with the man, it turned out that the weird, little man was actually a wizard who was mentioned while the company was travelling in the rain and that was probably why she forgot about him. Any important conversation had been washed away in the rain and Nemea was in no hurry to go back and try to retrieve the lost thoughts. Gandalf took the funny wizard farther away from the group and then he turned and beckoned Nemea over. Casting a look at Bilbo, she shrugged her shoulders and followed after them. They walked a little ways downhill so their voices didn't get carried on the wind. Gandalf started pacing and Nemea sat on a rock and supported her arm, Radagast stood in place.

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf," Radagast said. "A darkness has fallen over it; nothing grows anymore or at least, nothing good. The air is foul with decay but worst are the webs."

"Webs?" Nemea wondered. The last time she had been in the Greenwood was when she was running away from Erebor and the forest was very much alive and green, what was the deal with webs?

"Giant spiders, my dear." The wizard told her and he turned to Gandalf. "Some spawn of Ungoliant or I am not a Wizard. I followed their trail…they came from _Dol Guldur_." Gandalf had been pacing and now he stopped and turned to face Radagast, Nemea heard drums in her head at the mention of the name. Her father spoke of drums coming from the fortress, secret drums that travelled beneath the earth and made the ground shake, it was Mordor's second heartbeat, he told her. Nemea had no desire to explore the place with her brothers; she preferred her home on the mountain or staying a few nights in Dale with her…with her mate. Nemea listened intently as Radagast explained his journey to the fortress and his meeting with this "Necromancer"; she felt the air around her grow cold and peered over her shoulder to see where Bilbo was. Radagast paused in his talking, staring past Nemea with a dazed look in his face and she walked over and shook his shoulder gently. He started and looked at them with a funny smile, Nemea giggled at the snaggletooth sticking out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry." Gandalf pulled out his pipe and wiped the mouthpiece with his beard – Nemea laughed at that as well – and offered it to Radagast. The brown wizard inhaled deeply and didn't breathe out until Gandalf instructed him too. A slight breeze came through the trees and Nemea smelled the scent of a large animal coming towards them, she put her arm on Gandalf's shoulder and he nodded, seeming to sense the same thing. She ran up and joined the others; Bilbo was about to ask what was up when an animal howled near them. Bilbo drew his sword and Nemea caught sight of a shape moving behind Bofur. Barking an order for Bofur to move, an arrow whizzed past her neck and struck the warg's neck. Nemea turned to congratulate Kili on the shot but the warg staggered back onto his feet only to have Thorin bring down his new sword down on its head. Another warg appeared high above them, Kili notched another arrow and let it soar into the beast's eye, watching it slid down the hill so Dwalin's war hammer contacted with its head. Nemea walked over and inspected the wargs with a frown.

"They're too small to be ridden and too small to fight. Scouts." She said shortly.

"Which means an Orc pack is not far behind." Thorin said gravely. Gandalf and Radagast heard the commotion and came up to check on everything, Gandalf in particular stared at the wargs with great concern.

"You did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin." He asked sternly, looking up from the scouts to Thorin's face.

"No one."

"Who did you tell?" He asked again and took a step forward so that he towered over Thorin.

"No one, I swear!" Gandalf muttered something under his breath. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You are being hunted." An uneasy silence settled over the group and Bilbo put a hand over his eyes and sighed deeply. He was beginning to rethink this whole adventure thing…again. Dwalin walked over and put on Thorin's shoulder, staring around the hills and trees as if he was expecting another attack.

"We need to move, any longer and they'll be on us."

"We can't!" Ori and Bifur appeared from atop a small hill. "The ponies…they've bolted."

"I'll draw them off." Everyone turned to look at Radagast incredulously.

"These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you." Radagast raised an eyebrow as if Gandalf had offended him.

"_These_ are Rhosgobel rabbits." He jerked a finger in their direction and then smiled. "_I'd like to see them try." _He jumped onto the sleigh and took off with amazing speed; Nemea stared after the rabbits longingly until Bilbo slapped her thigh angrily and pointed to the dwarves who were chasing after Gandalf. As much as Nemea would've loved to carry Bilbo on her shoulders, her injury prevented her and she nudged him forward into a run.

*/*/*

While they were not as fast as Radagast on his sleigh, the dwarves were surprisingly good at keeping up with both Nemea and Gandalf who were not weighted down by heavy armour and packs. One would've imagined that the wizard's robes were a hindrance to him but they gave the impression that he was floating on the air itself. If anything, one would say that his only real difficulty was in keeping up with Nemea who's long and powerful legs propelled her over rocks and roots, she often kicked off the ground and jumped a few feet away. Not willing to be outdone, the dwarves were able to go even faster, it's possible that the challenge was what made them so ready to run. Bilbo was having a hard time, having so many meals in a day and then having that number cut down to three, not to mention all the ground he had covered when not getting the best sleep proved to be his undoing. Indeed, Bombur was faster than the hobbit.

Radagast weaved in front of them and looked over his shoulder and waved, Nemea slowed her pace a bit and looked to Gandalf.

"If you don't mind," she said with a grin. "I'm going to have a little fun as well." She looked back at Bilbo and the hobbit started shaking his head.

"Don't eat the rabbits!" With a laugh, Nemea took off ahead of them but not so far that they couldn't hear all her bones begin cracking, watch as her arms and legs grew wider how a tail unfurled itself from underneath her skirt. In moments, Nemea was galloping on her hands and feet, her body lengthening and golden hair grew over her clothes. She suddenly stopped at the edge of the forest, waiting for Radagast to go out first, and she turned around. The Change was complete. Before the dwarves of Erebor, a tall lioness stood before them, her wide yellow eyes eager for the hunt. She came up to Gandalf's shoulder, a thin sliver of hair came from her head and down her back, the tiny orange crystal was completed hidden under her golden fur. Her tail lashed out behind her and her ears pulled back as Radagast burst from the trees. She bowed her head respectfully and with a loud roar, she sprung out from the treeline and barreled into the first warg she saw, ripping its rider off and snapping its neck in her jaws. She sunk her claws into the warg's flank and pulled him to the ground, stomping on its chest with her massive paws and shattering his ribcage. With the bone fragments stabbing his heart, Nemea raced after the rest of the pack and zeroed in on a warg with a bite mark on its leg.

Radagast slid under a rock, two wargs were foolish enough to follow him, and the rest branched out to corner the wizard. Nemea jumped on the weakened mount and bit into her orc rider, throwing him off and listening as his body was trampled. She clamped her jaws around the female warg's neck and started ripping out flesh, the giant wolf stopped running and Nemea was launched over her back. Landing on her feet, she growled and circled her prey, licking her lips and snarling. The warg bared her teeth and leapt forward, Nemea jumped onto her hind legs and brought her paw down on the warg's head, cracking her skull open. Nemea scented the air and followed a warg and his rider that had split away from the pack. Nemea chased after the scent and barrelled into the beast, the orc went flying behind her as Nemea ripped into the beast's throat. Behind her, she heard the sound of the orc being killed and turned to face the dwarves. Radagast had disappeared and the sounds of the dying orc had drawn the attention of the rest of the pack.

Nemea shook her head and swung her head forward, telling the dwarves to start running. They all stared at her with varying looks of awe, fear, and nervous respect. Bombur huffed impatiently and started running.

"Hurry up, I don't fancy making her angry in that form!" the fat dwarf declared and Nemea made a curious sound that was reminiscent of rocks grading against each other. Everyone started after the cook with Gandalf and Thorin sprinting ahead as Nemea held up the back. But it was hopeless, the wargs had them surrounded from all sides and Kili started firing off arrows, Nemea stood right beside him as the rest of the dwarves moved back towards a row of rocks.

"Where is Gandalf?" Kili hollered back. "I can't shoot them all."

"Nemea!" the lioness looked back at Thorin. "Can you take them?" she shrugged slowly and moved in front of Kili, pushing him towards his uncle while he protested. She gave him a pleading look and bumped her head against his.

"Hold your ground!" Nemea started towards the wargs just ahead of her and roared, digging her claws into the dirt and lowering herself to the ground. At the time, the prospect of dying never really hit her and she knew that she wouldn't be able to kill all of them but she knew one thing, she would certainly kill most of them.

"This way, you fools! Nemea!" The lioness growled and took several steps back, pausing to watch the dwarves disappear into nothingness. Thorin called for her again as a warg came at her from the side, Nemea jumped back and got low to the ground before throwing her body into the giant wolf's and ripping into his stomach, pulling out a stringy organ and spitting it out. Thorin jumped up and disappeared and she heard the dwarves calling her down. Nemea went to the spot where she had seen them disappear and found herself sliding down stone. She spun into a wall and sighed heavily, licking her lips and paws free of blood. Gandalf nodded to her and Bilbo sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around her neck and nuzzling into her face.

"You had me worried." He told her, holding her chin in one hand and using the other to scratch behind one of her ears. A deep purr came from the lioness's throat and the dwarves chuckled – a horn echoed outside and everyone listened as numerous orcs and wargs were killed. One such orc came sliding down the hill and Thorin plucked an arrow from its chest, identifying the arrow of Elven make. Nemea turned her head and noticed a large crack in the wall, Dwalin went down it and said he couldn't tell where it led and Bofur was quick to suggest they follow it anyway. They were all tried from the meeting with the trolls and the running, and no one was ready to face whatever just solved their orc problem. Nemea stayed in the cavern until everyone was out of sight before she stood up and closed her eyes. She jumped onto her hind legs and the fur fell from her body, her limbs shrunk to their original size, her familiar green-blue eyes glowed underneath her long hair. She ran to catch up with Bilbo and followed them out onto a stony floor where a large valley opened up to them. Nemea's heart sank.

It was the Last Homely House, Rivendell. Home to Elrond Half-Elven. And final resting place of her four children.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Secrets in Plain Sight, Part 1**

Morl sat outside the den, his great yellow eyes staring out over the landscape as the sun rose above the horizon, its rays painting the clouds pink against an orange sky. Below, he could just imagine the people of Dale rising with the sunlight, how they would sit up with bleary eyes and stretch their arms above their heads. He wondered if any newborns had slept through the night and if they hadn't, if their parents had spent the night near their side. Behind him, his wife was slowly waking and he soon felt her hands in his mane. Unlike her husband, Nimya chose to wake up Furless. She sighed contently as Morl leaned his head into hers, his whiskers tickling her face and making her laugh softly. Birds flew over them, heralding the morning and Morl could look down and see his kin move out from their dens and slide down the mountain to hunt and bathe. Many others had woken up Furless and he knew most would be going to Dale to explore and have fun. Some of the males remained inside to nurse their wounds from the Succession last night and Morl looked over his shoulder to see if any of his children had woken up yet. His sons, Mordecai and Mellion, would no doubt wish to sleep in as they had both lost their battles last night but there was some hope for his daughter who had duties to perform with her mate as he had won the Succession and asked for her hand in union. Morl turned his head back to face the now blue sky and shook his head.

The den where he had made love to his wife, the den where all three of his children were born, would be given over to his daughter and her new mate as they prepared to share their lives with each other. He growled softly at the thought, of his little girl now a young woman. His little lioness. Nimya smiled as she put her hand over her husband's paw.

"You did us proud, Morl." The great lion huffed and lowered his head onto his paws, nosing her hand off and shutting his eyes. Nimya rolled her eyes and stood up, gathering her straw-coloured hair and tying it into a knot under her skull. She moved her hands down and tied a new knot maybe an inch away and continued all the way down until she ran out of hair. Morl had watched her do this and felt a certain heat rise up in him as the end of her hair touched the backs of her thighs, the pale material of her dress enticing him for a closer look. Nimya had travelled to Dale some days ago to prepare for the Succession; all women were required to look their best for their men as they fought to see who would become the next King over the Mountain. For nearly 400 years, Morl had been King and watched the birth of the Dwarf King's son and grandchildren. Now and with any luck, when his daughter ruled as Queen, she would further guard and protect Durin's Heirs. Since the first of their kind, there was always a lion looking over Durin's people whether in secret or out in the open. Morl recalled the stories told to him as a young cub, how each line was etched into his memory of the time when Durin the Deathless still walked Middle-Earth.

The lions traced their ancestry to the great black lion and mount of Durin himself, Leo. They were so named "Leolings" by the dwarves who cared to remember them for after generations the lions faded into myth. Dwarves did not live as long as the Leolings and it was said that when Durin died, Leo felt such a great pain that nothing could ever mend his heart. He decreed that his people distance themselves from the dwarves to avoid such heartbreak but they were charged with protecting them. And they did so. Leo's family kept the tradition and with the growing number of dwarves, they too multiplied. When Erebor became the stronghold of Durin's children, the lions made secret holes in the mountain that were carved deep inside but still far from the kingdom within.

But as time went on, the right to rule became a very blurred line with so many children being born to the queen. Whether the Leolings chose to give birth Furless or stay lions, there were simply too many of them that could claim the right so Succession was created. When the current King would become advanced in years, he would choose a night where all eligible males would fight for the chance to rule. It wasn't a fight to the death but a fight to submission. Needless death was not celebrated.

Morl had led his people about halfway in between Erebor and the Iron Hills for the fights to take place and once a single winner had emerged, Morl fought him. Both Mordecai and Mellion had fought well and impressed more than a few admirers but were beaten by older lions. Those two lions had gone on to fight a final match where the winner would fight Morl and as the old king thought about it, he was not entirely upset that he had lost. The new King over the Mountain was a lion by the name of Fell, a childhood friend of the brothers who Morl considered to be Leo's true descendent. He was a fierce fighter but also a compassionate soul who had won the heart of Morl's daughter when they were young. Though his fur was the same golden hue, Morl saw Leo's determination and kindness in Fell's eyes. In truth, the lion had long possessed Morl's blessing but hearing him pronounce his proposal aloud was a tiny bit of a shock. Morl was fiercely protective of his youngest and only daughter and by extension, so were his sons. The three of them were always together, they all hunted as one and went to Dale as a pack, it was rare to see them apart. But that was going to change with his little girl, his little Nemea being a wife, Queen, and a mother presumably.

Nimya sat down again, smoothing out the white silk dress that ended just above her knees, a golden sash was tied about her waist and last night, she had ripped off the sleeves. Morl reached out and put his head on her shoulder, hearing the sounds of their children waking up. Mordecai had been the first to rise and he stepped out and yawned loudly, licking his lips and nudging his father with his foot. A nasty scar ran across his face and there were several mean-looking tooth marks on his left shoulder. He wore a loose fitting, sleeveless, white shirt with leather straps crisscrossing his chest, and he had ripped brown pants to his knees and no shoes. His arms were covered in white scars and his legs were marked with a few cuts and scrapes. His green eyes were warm with mirth as his mother worked to sort out his mane of golden hair. Moments later, another figure stumbled into view and Mordecai snorted. Mellion was leaner compared to his older brother and he put a little more effort into his appearance with a faded grey shirt that wasn't ripped in any places and long black pants that disappeared into dark fur-lined boots. His yellowy hair was tied in a sloppy braid that hung over his shoulder but a few rebellious strands stuck out at odd angles. What Mordecai was laughing at was the bruise on his brother's face shaped exactly like a lion's paw.

"Quiet down, you idiot." Mellion hissed, swatting Mordecai's head and squeezing between his mother and brother.

"I _shiver_ to think what you might do to me should I refuse." Mordecai said laughingly and Mellion growled and shoved him farther away.

"Now, now, you are injured. Why not go back to sleep?"

"We want to see Fell, of course." Mordecai said in a matter-of-factly voice. "He's going to become our brother soon and we have to make sure that he won't so anything stupid." Morl kind of laughed and stood up, touching his forehead to each of his sons before he walked into the den and searched for Nemea. She was huddled in the far corner of the cave and sitting tight against the wall, her tail swinging back and forth nervously. Morl cocked his head to one side curiously.

_"Is something wrong?"_ he asked as he sat down before her. Lions could of course commune with each other but to anyone else, it was a complicated language of snarls and raspy growls.

_"No…well, I don't think so."_

_"Speak."_ Nemea sighed deeply and nuzzled into her father's neck like she did as a child, her words coming out in a rush.

_"Fell and I…I'm going to be his – and he's going to be my…How will I…and it's just so…scary."_ Morl chuckled and stood up, urging Nemea to follow him out into the sun. The light stung her eyes for a second and she looked down and watched her friends – her soon-to-be subjects – run towards Dale. As it was the closet city to Erebor, the lions preferred to explore and learn new things from all the races that gathered there. You wouldn't exactly see a Leoling to go skipping about Greenwood the Great but it wasn't totally uncommon. Nemea still had a hard time choosing what was more fun: teasing Elves or teasing Dwarves. Both included various pranks like running through the forest naked or perhaps sending them on wild goose chases as no one had properly seen a lion. A popular story among the children was "The Boy Who Cried Lion".

Her brothers and mother had already escaped to the land below and melted into the crowd as several dwarf venders came out of the mountain to sell their wares. Nemea wanted to join them, anything to escape the nervous excitement in her chest, anything to find something familiar in the city. Fell was just coming out of his den, his body proudly showing off battle scars from the previous night. He stuck his claws into the rock and started to scale the mountain, his eyes fixed on Nemea. Morl chuckled at the youth's eagerness and nodded his head as Nemea looked away from her mate with a bashful turn of her head.

_"Do not worry. You are my daughter and therefore will have the knowledge needed to balance _all_ your duties."_ The two of them spared a moment to watch the children of Thrain walk out, their arrival signified by deep blue banners and the sound of drums. Nemea chuckled nervously, staring down at her charge and avoiding the critical look of her father.

_"You put too much faith in me, Father" _Morl lifted a paw and placed it over hers, leaning into the lick her face affectionately.

_"That is because you are worthy of praise."_

* * *

Nemea felt sick as she looked upon the elven city, it was as if her stomach was trying to claw its way out of her throat, its knobby ends kicking at her heart. The lioness kept her mouth shut and her eyes set forward as she walked beside Bilbo, the two of them trailing behind Gandalf feelings of both anxiety and awe. None of the dwarves appeared to be very happy with the turn their journey had taken but none felt like voicing their concerns. Even to one who hated Elves, the sight of a place so fair struck them silent. Once they all walked onto the pavilion, Nemea watched an elf in dark robes glide down to meet them, Gandalf identified him as Lindir. She looked around them, wondering if any of the Elves could hear her blood pumping through her veins or sense the dread in her body, her hands were locked around her elbows and she had a hard time focusing on what Gandalf was saying. She felt like running or finding a place to hide, and then thought of sleep, wondering if it would be filled with pleasant or a nightmare crouched on the edge of her consciousness.

Bilbo, watching the varying emotions flicker across his friend's face, carefully put his hand into hers and squeezed it. Nemea blinked and looked down at him, attempting to smile as the horn from earlier rang out in the air and the sound of horse hooves thundered in their ears. Thorin barked something out in Khuzdul and then ordered for everyone to close ranks, somewhere in the moving around of things Gandalf had pulled her out to stand beside him. His hand was on her shoulder and Nemea saw an apology in his eyes and needn't be spoken aloud. She inclined her head tiredly, searching the faces of the riders for Lord Elrond's and then sighing quietly when he broke formation to greet them. Hearing the flow of Elvish pass between them, Nemea bowed her head slightly when Elrond turned to her with soft eyes.

"Long has it been since you were last in these halls, Nemea daughter of Nimya." Bilbo watched as Nemea's face softened at the mention of her mother's name, a name Bilbo had never heard her speak of before.

"Perhaps I can convince you to grant the same kindness you showed me when I was here. My friends and I are tired from our journey." She looked to Thorin and he took her silent invitation and stood before Elrond with a frown on his face, Nemea stared anxiously between the Elf and Dwarf, her fingers digging into her skin. Elrond nodded serenely as he recognized Thorin for who he was.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain."

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin replied evenly, sparing Nemea a glance. He could see how tired she was and while a part of him assumed it was due to the Change, he felt as though she was hiding a great pain. Her shoulders were hunched over and she was hugging her arms close to her body, her head was bowed and there was something so vulnerable about her, so different from the proud woman she had proven to be earlier in their quest. It was unsettling.

"You have your grandfather's bearing, I knew Thrór when he ruled under the Mountain." The elf lord's eyes looked to Nemea for a second and she just barely managed a small shake of her head. The dwarf prince didn't seem to notice that as he continued to say whatever was on his mind, remarking that Thrór never mentioned Elrond to him before. Nemea breathed through her nose and shut her eyes, _Thrór kept many other things hidden from you, Thorin Oakenshield._

The Company of Thorin Oakenshield was led further into Rivendell where food and drink awaited them. Gandalf, Thorin, and Nemea were granted the privilege to dine with Elrond at a table of their own as everyone else sat around a long table. Nemea was tempted to laugh as the dwarves found difficulty in enjoying the Elves particular tastes. Elves were very close to nature, so much so that partaking in the eating of meat caused them much distress, and that fact was an excellent teasing point to make. She would have to remember to go hunting later tonight and bring something back for the dwarves or perhaps Gandalf had arranged something to be brought for them as it appeared that Rivendell was indeed their destination all along. As Lord Elrond explained the origins of Thorin and Gandalf's swords, she ate quietly and stared down the hall at trees blowing in the breeze, fireflies flickered in between the leaves almost coaxing her out to play. The wind seemed to be whispering about something that was lost, it tugged on her hair and begged for her to follow. Nemea turned her attention back to the conversation at hand as it had suddenly become about her, Elrond had asked why she was travelling with dwarves.

"I needed to get out." She said simply, hoping Elrond would ignore the way her eyes gazed past him. He raised an eyebrow and glanced over his shoulder, a silence passed over their heads and Elrond looked back to her.

"I can see your mind is occupied with other things. I would like to speak with you again but please, go and see them." Thorin secured Orcrist to his side and watched Nemea bite her lip anxiously, standing up and awkwardly bowing herself out of their presence. Once again he saw how suddenly awkward and uncomfortable she had become, like her courage was reduced to nothing but a mewing kitten. In any case, Nemea had ran down the hall and disappeared behind the trees. Running down stairs that were slowing being conquered by moss, she stopped before a quiet pool of water, the only sound heard was the way the waterfall tumbled down stony ledge. Nearest to the water's edge and under a tall willow tree were four small mounds of dirt. Nemea looked around to make sure no one else was around before slowly sinking to her knees, her hands moving over the mounds as if they were sleeping babes. The wild woman put a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with tears, a few drops slipping off her cheek on landing on her knees. She tried to take a deep breath into her lungs but her throat tightened and she choked on a dry sob. But that sobbing soon turned into apology after apology, and Nemea rocked back and forth with each of them. An apology that they died so young, that they died without names, she begged for forgiveness that she hadn't the foresight to stop their deaths in the first place. Her fingers dug into the earth, wiggling around in search of flesh but finding nothing but the coolness of a smooth bone.

Nemea put both hand over her mouth and blinked heavy tears from her eyelashes, trying to ignore the old ache in her heart. She hoped no one had followed her; Nemea wasn't sure if she could face anyone or even begin to explain the pain she was going through. She started coughing, trying to dislodge the painful knot in her throat. She knew there was at least one dwarf who could under losing their entire family…she also knew that she was partly to blame for his loss too. Nemea moaned and leaned forward until her forehead met the cool earth. If only she had guarded him better, if only she had taken him with her over the mountains that way Bilbo would've grown up with both a lioness and a dwarf for caregivers. Nemea's shoulders started to shake, her father had been wrong; she wasn't able to balance her duties at all. She failed him.

Along with her apologies to her nameless children, her thoughts naturally flew to Fell and her family. When the dragon had arrived and attacked Dale, a large majority of her kin died there, Fell wanted them to celebrate at the news that Nemea would soon give birth to his heirs. They had gone Furless and died defenseless. The few that remained on the Mountain had tried to take down the dragon alone, Nemea remembered Morl and Nimya facing a streak of orange flames and disappearing in a puff of black ash. Her brothers learned not to attack the drake head on and tried circling around him but Mellion was speared on Smaug's tail and Mordecai was crushed under one massive foot. More were burned, some eaten before her very eyes. And Fell. Nemea pushed herself onto her feet and stumbled to a bush, feeling her throat burn and vomiting into the grass. Fell told her to run. She didn't want to run, Nemea had never backed down from a challenge and this wouldn't be any different. If this was to be the end, she at least wanted to die knowing she had tried, that the two of them had fought as hard as they could. But his word had been final and when she started to run, she heard Fell's roar rip through the sky until it was abruptly cut short.

The Elvenking's domain passed in a daze, a thousand dying gasps echoed in her head, the images of burnt corpses flashed before her eyes one after the other. She remembered very little of passing through Greenwood except the colours of the leaves and the soft ground beneath her feet because she was suddenly crossing the Misty Mountains. After numerous attacks by goblins, Nemea quite literally tumbled into the Valley of Imladris where the Elves tried to counsel her, tried getting her to relax so they could heal her injuries and make sure the pregnancies went well but it was all in vain. The trauma of so much death, the stress of fleeing, and the wounds caused by her fights in the mountains proved too much for her newborns to bare and arrived in Middle-Earth as freshly made corpses.

The lioness and former Queen fell onto her side and clutched her stomach – one of the elves had the audacity to inform her that she would still be able to bear children. Sure, she could understand that Elves lived through many joys and perils in their long lives but her people lasted 400 years, witnessing the birth of so many and watching as they died peacefully for old age or finally succumbing to old wounds. Nemea never remembered death as something so violent before but the dragon had changed all of that, it was now a fear she held close to her heart. The fear of death, the fear of fire, and the fear that she could nothing so stop what _could_ happen. Nemea rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky which was dark with stars and a glistening moon, so much like a pearl wrapped in darkness.

"Hello?" Nemea bolted upwards and wiped the tears from her eyes. A young boy was perched at the top of the stairs. "Are you alright, Miss?"

"I'm fine." She called to him, slowly climbing to her feet and walking towards the small staircase.

"You don't sound "fine'." Nemea laughed and shook her head as the boy came down to meet her. He appeared to be on the cusp of manhood, his face was not as chubby as a child's and his grey eyes possessed some kind of wisdom in them. They sat down at the same time; the boy gathered his longish brown hair and tied it in a short ponytail at the base of his skull. He looked at the four little graves.

"I've always wondered who they belonged to, I hope you don't mind but, I put flowers there." He pointed and Nemea saw that there were several white flowers at the head of the graves.

"Thank you…I've always wondered if anyone ever cared for them." The boy gave her a small smile and looked down, twisting his hands together and sighing deeply. The two of them sat in silence for a very long time, listening to soft notes being played by a flute and a voice that rose above the song to touch the heavens. The boy turned his head so he could listen better and Nemea saw a familiar look in his eyes, a look of admiration and childish love. But then there sounds of rough voices taking to the air, the rumbling of a pot being struck so many times in succession, and the sound of violins.

"There was someone looking for you?" the boy said after a while.

"Oh?"

"A Hobbit, I think." Bilbo. Nemea supposed that he deserved some kind of explanation but perhaps later, she needed to think on what she should say and make sure that she had the strength to say it without breaking down. With that in mind, she stood up and pulled the boy up with her, asking if they could take the long way back to the dwarves and the boy agreed. Nemea didn't spent much time in Rivendell, maybe five days, and she was amazed at how bright the Last Homely House was at night. Somehow the Elves had managed to persuade the sunlight to live up in the ceilings of all the rooms. The boy asked if Nemea wanted to freshen up before meeting with everyone and Nemea thought that would be a good idea. As they crossed over a slow stream, Nemea jumped off the bridge they were standing on and dove beneath the water. The boy was laughing so hard that Nemea took one look at him and pulled him into the water with her.

Climbing back on, she fished him out and laughed as he shook out his damp hair. So their initial path was changed to give them enough time to dry off, in that time the boy introduced himself as Estel. He told her that he was living in Rivendell with his mother and that the Elves were training him, he had never left the elven sanctuary before so he was very jealous of the company of dwarves and their hobbit. Estel told Nemea that Gandalf, Thorin, and Bilbo followed Lord Elrond to his study were they discussed something about a map, the boy confessed that he might have been eavesdropping on them. Estel led Nemea up some more stairs (she had been complaining that Rivendell possessed too many stairs), and he had pointed ahead of them to where Lord Elrond was speaking with a woman with white-blond hair. Gandalf and Thorin were standing nearby as Bilbo walked away to a large balcony where Nemea could smell the dwarves and the scent of burning lettuce.

"Estel!" the woman cried when she saw them, gathering up her skirts so she could run. "Where have you been?"

"I was with Nemea. Nemea, this is my mother Gilraen." The wild woman smiled and bowed her head.

"Sorry if I kept him from you, I may have pushed him into a tiny river." Gilraen released a sigh and ran her fingers through Estel's hair, the boy rolled his eyes and pushed her hands away.

"Mother, I'm fifteen."

"And not yet a man, so don't fuss." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his head. "I hope you don't mind but it is late and someone has a training lesson with Glorfindel tomorrow." Estel said something harsh in Elvish and Gilraen slapped the back of his head with a reproachful look. Nemea bid the two of them goodnight and joined up with Gandalf as Elrond walked away, Thorin appeared to be heading back to the others.

"Well?"

"We shall be staying in Rivendell for fourteen days until the moon runes on Thorin's map can be read." Gandalf and Nemea started walking towards the dwarves and the woman watched Bombur break a table under his weight.

"Moon runes?"

"Yes, they are a special type of runes that can only be read under the light of a moon that was the same shape and season that they were written on." Nemea smirked.

"Surely a wizard of your skill could've figured that out. Seeking to change the dwarf's opinion of the Elves?" Gandalf closed his eyes and chuckled.

* * *

On the first morning of their stay in Rivendell, the dwarves woke up to the smell of meat cooking. They all looked at the center of their sleeping area to find Bilbo and Nemea sitting around a large pot, the hobbit was chopping up potatoes and carrots and celery and dropping them into the mixture as Nemea was skinning and deboning rabbits. Someone had tied her hair in a neat bun behind her head and she looked up at the dwarves with a smirk.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had all died in your sleep." She looked over at Bombur and beckoned him over, gesturing to a few small bowls beside her. "Bilbo wanted your opinion on which herbs to put in it." Bombur stuck a delicate finger into the stew and ran his tongue over his lips with a dreamy smile. Bilbo and Nemea exchanged looks as Bombur plucked a few leaves of basil and sprinkled them over the stew, searching for a spoon to stir with. Nemea, without looking away from her work, picked up a large wooden spoon and put it into Bombur's hands. The dwarves counted maybe six dead rabbits in her lap and most felt a little uneasy as she cleaned the meat with her bare hands. Once she was finished, she reached behind to grab a bowl of water and washed her hands. After making a few more suggestions to Bilbo, Bombur moved to a pile of unused vegetables and started munching on them quietly. Bilbo got up and gathered some more small bowls and started handing them out to the dwarves but he did ask Kili to give a bowl to Thorin for him. Nemea rolled her eyes at Bilbo and stood up, stretching her arms above her head and scratching a small scar on her elbow. Her fight with the wargs and orcs yesterday didn't leave any lasting marks on her except for a dull ache in her joints; Oin was the first to point out that Nemea's shoulder was completely healed from where the troll had slammed her into the ground.

"The Change healed it. My bones have to break to become a lion."

"Doesn't it hurt?" Ori asked timidly, he was holding a giant book and his quill was ready to write.

"When I was younger, now the Change is second nature. I could shift right now." She grinned and the dwarves could see her canines growing in anticipation. Bilbo huffed and slapped the back of her head.

"There will be none of that, Nim," the hobbit scolded her gently. "There are no orcs or wargs or rabbits for you to hunt."

"Not true, Little One. I find that hobbits themselves are very much like rabbits." Bilbo fumbled with the buttons on his jacket, cautiously staring down the hall and weighing the risk. Nemea slowly got to her feet and Bilbo groaned, perhaps seeing into the future and knowing that he would be teased about this moment for a very long time – he jumped to his feet and started to run. Nemea had the decency to give him ten whole seconds before she sped off after him.

By the end of their stay in Rivendell, Nemea was still making morning trips to visit the graves of her children but this time Bilbo came with and kept her company. It was Bilbo who managed to make her smile and be merry with everyone else although her strange behaviour did not go unnoticed and as the hobbit was very good at making her feel better, the dwarves decided to let them be. Thorin was still puzzled over her actions and he intended to speak to her about it but he found that she was always doing something with someone else whether it was her lessons with Ori (he was slowly teaching her how to read and write – but not in Khuzdul), or supervising her hobbit while he sparred with the prince's nephews. Fili and Kili were quite aware of Nemea's pain as they had seen similar looks on their mother's face when Uncle Frerin popped up in conversations or their father. They did little things to make her happy and most of time it was unconscious, anything the brothers did seemed to make her smile and one day when they asked, Nemea said in a sad voice: "I imagine my children would've acted the same." So it came to be that through the efforts of the boys, the company came to know of the graves located in a grove near one of the various waterfalls, and the dwarves asked their questions with empathy on their tongues.

Surprisingly, it was Kili who first went down to see the graves by himself and soon after he brought down his brother where the two sat there, staring, for a long time perhaps picturing what Nemea's children would've been like. She told them that three of them were boys and her youngest was a tiny baby girl. At some point before the fourteenth day, each of the dwarves took time to see the graves for themselves most choosing not to speak but to observe and understand. This was the hardness they first saw, a private pain that was now shared among the others. Of the dwarves, Ori was the only one to offer a sort of prayer in Khuzdul, his soft voice lingering long in the trees planted by the Elves having only heard the merriment of the fair folk. Bombur spoke quietly to graves, informing Nemea's dead children that their mother was very kind and scary but in a good way.

On one of the occasions that Nemea dwelt alone in the grove after Bilbo was called for more training, Thorin came down alone and stood behind her. Neither of them spoke for a very long time and they could hear the trees replaying Ori's song in distorted moans. A warm hand, worn with work and time, fell on Nemea's shoulder and she sighed deeply. There are some things, some careful and quiet things, which people cannot say aloud and are best conveyed in action instead of voice. Thorin knew that nothing he could possibly say would lift the burden of loss carried over for six decades but he at least wanted her to know that he wasn't blind to her pain. Returning to Erebor would be hard for him as well and he dreaded to think on it. And so they stood as kindred spirits.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Secrets in Plain Sight, Part 2**

Bilbo Baggins had been quite happy to finally get some proper sleep and actual meals that didn't consist of stale bread and whatever stew Bombur managed to concoct. Understand, Bilbo liked what Bombur cooked but he was a little hesitant to ask the dwarf what he was putting in the soup in the first place. The moment they left the Shire, there weren't exactly vegetables growing on the side of the road and any berries were usually poisonous or just gross to taste. They didn't have a lot of time to fish either with Thorin pushing the company to move now and rest later. Bilbo was very grateful to sleep peacefully and some of the elves had given them cushions to sleep on, no annoying marble floor for this hobbit! But the only thing that seemed to bother Bilbo was that Nemea was rarely seen. Sure, she still slept near him at night but in the morning, she'd just up and disappear. Thorin wasn't keen on the dwarves leaving their little area so Bilbo often had to try his own hand at sneaking and he was bloody brilliant at it, he could explore for three hours and come back without being missed. In that time, he was able to snatch a few books for Ori to study from and when Nori saw that, the thieving little blighter had him go and steal some food from the kitchens. Most alarming of all was that Bilbo actually _enjoyed_ it. The thrill of doing something wrong was so…_addictive_, he had become braver since the whole troll incident and it was finally beginning to show.

On the morning of the third day in Rivendell, Bilbo had slipped away in hopes that he'd finally figure out where Nemea went in the mornings. He was walking past a courtyard when he saw the boy Estel training with a tall, blond elf. Nemea had told Bilbo about Estel and this elf must've been the Glorfindel that Gilraen spoke of. He wandered down to get a closer look just as the elf grabbed Estel's sword arm and twisted it behind him, the Elf's blade slid under the boy's chin. Estel stomped on Glorfindel's foot and swung around, knocking his wooden sword against Glorfindel's sword and sending it flying into the trees. Estel raised his sword under Glorfindel's chin and the blond elf smiled brilliantly, taking a few steps back and clapping his hands. Estel lowered his sword slowly with a grin and put his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths as Glorfindel walked back and grabbed a damp cloth, he tossed it to the boy and Estel caught it against his chest.

"Impressive, I understand now why Lindir was so reluctant to spar with you yesterday." Estel wiped his face and walked over to his teacher, staring sideways into the trees and trying to spot the other sword.

"Thanks, sorry about the sword." Glorfindel shook his head.

"It should not be hard to find, now hurry before Erestor comes looking for you." Estel nodded and hastily placed his sword against a bench and zipped up the stairs and headed, Bilbo thought, to the library for his studies. Glorfindel turned around and looked into the trees, moving forward and plucking his sword from some tangled branches. Bilbo wondered how he should approach the elf for a long time, it was clear that he spoke Common but Bilbo figured he should try something more.

_"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn." __(A star shines over the hour of our meeting.) _Bilbo said softly and Glorfindel turned around at his voice and smiled warmly at him.

_"Mae l'ovannen."(Well met.) _Bilbo shyly came down to meet him and Glorfindel walked towards him, carefully lowering himself onto his knees so that he didn't tower over the hobbit.

"Thank you. Though I do admit, I wasn't entirely sure I said that right."

"You said it very well, you are Bilbo Baggins, are you not?" the hobbit flushed and nodded slowly, still struck with how lovely Glorfindel looked but he figured most people would be affected similarly, well, except the dwarves of course.

"Y-yes, I am. I was wondering you saw my friend, Nemea?" Glorfindel's face darkened slightly as he stood up, Bilbo followed him up the stairs where he pointed to an archway overcome with many leafy trees.

"You shall find her down there but I warn you, you may not like what you see." He smiled again and bowed his head yet his clear blue eyes fixed themselves on the tiny blade still strapped to the hobbit's waist. Bilbo knew Rivendell was safe but he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen so he settled for keeping his nameless blade with him at all time, he was even sleeping with it at night like all the other dwarves.

"May I see that for a moment?" Glorfindel pointed to the dagger/sword and the hobbit hastily pulled it out of its sheath, the blond elf took the offered hilt and held what was definitely a dagger up in the air.

"Is it…yours?" Bilbo asked cautiously as Glorfindel laughed.

"Indeed it is! Why, I never imagined that I would ever see it again, much less in the hands of a hobbit!" Bilbo wasn't quite sure if that was an insult or a compliment in disguise, or if perhaps Glorfindel meant it to be both at once. Either way, he felt a little better that this dagger was valued as Glorfindel put the blade back in its sheath. Bilbo eyed him curiously.

"You don't want it back?"

"It suits you, little master, my only concern is if you can use it." Bilbo looked away and Glorfindel laughed at him. That's all Elves seemed to do when they saw him, Bilbo thought to himself, they either laughed or smiled at him as if he was a…a little rabbit or a child; it was mildly irritating to be considered either one. Glorfindel put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and told him that he was willing to give the hobbit a few lessons before he and the company had to leave. So every morning after breakfast, Bilbo would slip away and train with Estel and Glorfindel, often coming back with small bruises and cuts which led most of the company to come and watch him spar with a very tall elf and a man-child, which was Dwalin's affectionate name for Estel. And if Glorfindel was too busy to train either of his students, the dwarves stepped up and intervened and this was mostly Fili and Kili. Dwalin supervised the event and gave advice from the sidelines, the boys were excellent teachers and Bilbo was very thankful that Thorin chose not to tutor him instead. When it all boiled down to whom Bilbo feared the most, it was Thorin. Something about his imposing stature made Bilbo want to curl up and die, not even Dwalin scared him because the tattooed dwarf had called in Ori for some extra training as well. True, by the end of the fourteen days, Bilbo was no master at swordplay but he at least knew enough so he wasn't a complete burden.

As he left Glorfindel and made for the archway, pushing branches out of his face and carefully stepping down the moss-covered stairs, Bilbo froze at the foot of the staircase. Nemea sat in front of four neat mounds in the earth that were covered in white flowers. She wasn't doing anything, just sitting there and rocking forwards and back, humming songs he didn't recognize. Bilbo stared behind him, wondering if anyone had seen him come down this way before he took very quiet steps and sat down beside Nemea. Her eyes were closed and her arms were wrapped around her stomach, her long golden hair created a curtain to hide her face. Bilbo saw tears glistening on her lashes. He knew he ought to comfort her but he wasn't sure how he could; ever since he was little, it was always Nemea comforting him and he had never seen her so distraught. Sure, she got angry and very worried but those were easy to fix by telling her that everything was alright or that he was sorry, but this? How could he tell her everything would be alright when clearly it wasn't? How could he say he was sorry when he didn't understand? Bilbo frowned, staring at the little, unmarked…graves.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Nemea froze, her fingers curled around her shirt. She wouldn't look at him, all she did was shake her head. Bilbo stood up so that he was slightly taller than her as she knelt before the graves. He put his hand on her shoulder and flinched when she shook him off, turning away and shuddering.

"If you've got in your head that I'm going to think less of you because of this, you're mad." For a second, he thought she might've laughed but then she shook again and withheld a sob.

"It isn't _weak_ to cry, Nim." He walked around her and put his tiny hands on her shoulders so that she couldn't move without using more force than she was willing to. Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were shut so tight that Bilbo feared she might never open them again. And the _tears_. Eru, the tears were what bothered him so much. Hobbit tears were small and very easily missed but Nemea was much bigger than he, her tears looked like they could fill a small goblet. Using his thumbs, he rubbed her shoulders and leaned into her forehead, touching his nose against hers. Nemea let out a whimper and released her grip on her arms, they snaked around Bilbo's waist and pulled him close to her, Bilbo smiled as she nuzzled into his curls. He rubbed her back as much as he could with his small arms and as she slowly loosened her grip, he smiled and shook his head.

"Why didn't tell me you had children?"

"Because I had you," Nemea wiped her eyes with her fists. "I had you and all the hobbit children to make me happy, to make me forget." She looked back at the graves and took a deep, shuddering breath. She let go of him completely to finger the graves thoughtfully, a sad smile working its face onto her face.

"I suppose I shall have to be ready once we reach the mountain." Bilbo nodded.

"And I'll be with you all the way."

* * *

As Bilbo was the company's burglar, he was privy to the meeting with Lord Elrond concerning the moon runes on Thorin's map. Walking alongside Balin and just behind Thorin, they followed behind the wizard and elf lord as he led them through a tunnel in the rock that opened up onto a large cavern. A rush of cool air hit them in the face and Bilbo looked up to watch the clouds move in front of the moon, his bare feet felt peculiar markings in the ground and he stared at the cuts made into the rock, almost as if someone had carved the movements of the stars at each season. He heard Elrond chuckle at his amazement and reframed from giving the elf a frustrated look, looking instead to realize that markings stopped quite suddenly and had he taken another step, he would've plunged to his death. He stepped back hastily and found his place beside Balin as Elrond laid the map on a large rectangular crystal that soon lit up with the light from the moon. Standing on his toes, he watched as blue runes were etched onto the old paper, glowing faintly as Elrond ran his fingers over them.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sung with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole…" Elrond's voice trailed off and he gave Gandalf a look Bilbo couldn't quite discern but either way, that was the translation? So little to go and so very vague, Bilbo had a thing for riddles but this was beyond him.

"Durin's Day?" Gandalf, as if realizing Bilbo was actually with them, turned and smiled.

"It is the start of the dwarves' new year when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together." He explained and Thorin walked around the crystal and looked at Balin worriedly.

"This is ill news. Summer is passing, Durin's Day will soon be upon us." Balin shook his head.

"We still have time." Bilbo huffed impatiently, annoyed by the fact that he seemed to be the only person who didn't fully understand what was going on.

"Time?" he wondered aloud. "Time for what?"

"To find the entrance." He said to Bilbo. "We have to be standing in exactly the right spot, at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened." Clearly Balin knew more of this door than he was letting on.

* * *

**Uploading now because this is so short. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back**

Nemea lay curled up in a bed of soft leaves and stolen straw, the first few rays of sunlight gently climbed over her Furless form as a comforting arm snaked around her waist. Nemea groaned, turning around and burying her face in the chest of her mate, giggling when she felt his lips brush against her temple. Fell's hands came around to rest on her hips and he rolled Nemea onto her back to kiss her softly, smiling when her eyes came to rest on his. Greenish-blue met with dark gold and the king chuckled as his queen pulled his face down to meet hers, her wound her fingers in his hair and shook her head. Nemea knew that both she and her mate had duties to perform, Fell had to meet with a few of the cubs for a lesson in hunting and she was to follow after a hunting party of dwarves, keeping them away from Fell and making sure one dwarf in particular didn't get into trouble. As the tradition went, Nemea and her brothers were each assigned to one of Thrain's children to guard and protect. Nemea would meet her brother Mordecai as they watched over Frerin and Thorin respectively, Mellion was probably lurking in the meadows as he followed Princess Dis. The second eldest was absolutely terrified of Dis as he assumed she knew of his presence and did everything in her power to make him reveal himself. Thorin was completely unaware of Mordecai and Frerin…well, Nemea hadn't told anyone that she and the young prince were rather good friends.

Fell carefully reached behind his head to untangle his hair from Nemea's fingers, he got up from the ground and walked to the mouth of the cave. He was a tall man, taller than most of his people, with long golden hair tied in various braids; since their union, Nemea had taken to braiding his hair with small blue and bronze beads. His skin was as dark as Nemea's and unlike her brothers, was clad in torn brown shorts with yellow fur leg warmers and a brown shirt that hung low on his chest. The scars from the Succession had faded away into small white lines on his body. He turned slowly to watch Nemea sit up, gathering her hair and tying it into a loose knot.

"Will you be long?" Fell asked, wrapping an arm around her as she came to stand behind her.

"No. I know of a herd nearby that shouldn't be too hard to scare."

"Then I shall see you soon." He planted a kiss on her head and gently pushed her into the sunlight. Nemea sighed deeply and rolled her shoulders, taking a step back before she jumped into the air and landed firmly on the rocky side. Weaving around small cracks and points in the mountain, Nemea heard Fell behind her, how he didn't cut up his feet she didn't know. As they neared the ground, they jumped off the rock and rolled into a row of bushes. Nemea giggled as Fell pushed her into the earth, his mouth biting down on her neck as he trapped her arms against her chest. She could suddenly smell her brother and the dwarves and shot her mate a heated look, both a warning and a promise. The King over the Mountain grinned wickedly and snuck off to find the other lions, Mordecai slid in behind her. He pushed his nose against her shoulder and Nemea rolled her eyes, watching the procession of men walk past their hiding place and turn north so they could hunt on the edges of Greenwood the Great. Nemea and Mordecai sprinted around the mountain, Nemea managed to shift into her lion form, and they trailed behind the dwarves by about a hundred a hundred feet. The dwarves branched off into two main groups that were each led by one of the princes. Mordecai followed Thorin as the prince directed his party to move closer to the Grey Mountains, still be watchful not to move so close to the Withered Heath. The Withered Heath had long been the birthplace of dragons and while no one had seen a dragon since the days when Sauron still walked Middle-Earth, Thorin was told not to venture anywhere near it.

Frerin only had a few people with him and Nemea had a feeling that he was planning to ditch them in order to speak with her. True enough when they had entered the forest, Nemea watched Frerin run ahead of the group, saying that there was something ahead. This was her cue to act. Walking towards them, Nemea let out a roar, the sound being distorted by the wind and the trees that it hit. The dwarves left to warn Frerin and when both were sure that there was no one else, Nemea ran into the clearing and crashed into Frerin. The young prince laughed and ran his hands along Nemea's face, they touched their foreheads together and Frerin smiled brightly when Nemea licked his cheek.

"Yes, yes. I've missed you too, my friend. Where have you been?"

_"Family matters." _She said slowly. Apparently, Leo made certain that his language could only be understood by dwarves but that still required her to speak slowly enough for Frerin to understand.

"Is everything alright?"

_"I am Queen now and mated."_ Nemea repeated the sentence a few more times, Frerin had a surprised expression on his face.

"Con-congratulations then, Nim. I-I'm happy for you." He sat down on a nearby log and pushed his bangs out of his face. Unlike his older brother, Frerin was smaller and leaner – much like a cat if you were to ask Nemea – and his hair was not so black and thick. Nemea walked around the log and draped her front paws over it, putting her head on his lap and whimpering softly. Frerin was young. His hair was a soft brown colour that brightened in the sunlight, something creating blond streaks in his hair and it curled no matter what he did with it. He wore two braids on each side of his face with a few precious beads made for him by his family. But the one thing Nemea loved most about her dwarf was the near constant smile on his face, the same smile that was missing from his face.

_"That does not mean things will be any different between us, Frerin." _She said softly, Frerin huffed and got off the log to pace.

"I know that! But…it's so weird. You're a married woman now." If lions had eyebrows, Nemea's would've arched curiously.

_"Did…you just imply that I'm too old to speak to?"_ Frerin whipped around and shook his head, waving his hands in front of his face. Nemea grinned and climbed over the log, she could hear Thorin calling out for his brother and she jerked her head in the direction of the voices. Frerin cocked his head to one side as Nemea roared again, a stampede of hooves was coming towards them and Nemea ran forward and bit down on Frerin's arm, swinging him up onto her back as they ran amidst the deer. She waited until the herd was in front of her to slow down for Frerin to get a few shots with his arrows, then she lowered herself to the ground so he could climb down.

The deer, scared of Nemea, had no idea that the dwarves were waiting for them outside the forest and they managed to cut down most of them, Nemea told her friend that she had to leave him early and that her brother would be nearby in case something happened.

"Could I possibly see you again later tonight?" Nemea looked off to the side.

_"That…will not be possible, I made a promise to Fell." _Frerin shivered and nodded his head, promising to see her tomorrow. So Nemea bid her friend farewell and quickly ran around the mountain to meet up with her mate. She picked up his scent near the River Running and followed the stream until it met up with the River Carmen. Fell had twelve cubs with him and by the smell, she guessed that they had chased a number of deer to this spot; five cubs were currently washing the blood off their paws. Nemea crept over to them slowly, fixing her gaze on Fell who seemed perfectly unaware of her approach. Sinking into the grass and curling her claws in anticipation, Nemea launched herself into the air and landed on Fell's back, the two of them rolling over until the Queen pinned her King. Fell huffed impatiently from underneath her but his eyes sparkled in amusement, the cubs weren't sure if they were allowed to laugh until Fell started chuckling.

_"What Nemea has demonstrated is that you must always be aware of your surroundings even if you've caught your prey." _He explained between laughs, Nemea licked his cheek and climbed off him. The cubs all bowed their heads in respect and Nemea smiled at them.

_"That's enough for one day, carry what you can and we shall be on our way." _Fell winked at his mate and the two of them led the younglings back to the mountain where everyone else was waiting for them.

*/*/*

_"The hunt went very well except for those five in the river; their bloodlust was not sated even when their kill lay dead." _Fell said softly as if he was expecting the cubs to appear. He was telling Nemea all that had happened during the day as when they all returned home, it was nearly nightfall.

"_I shall have to speak with their parents tomorrow, we were never a race of heartless killers and I intend to keep it that way. You understand that, Morl taught you to appreciate the life of others."_

"_Yes but even I can fail to keep it restrained. Father will no doubt tell you this but I have certain…_fondness_ for rabbits." _Fell snorted and rested his head on his arms, his tail waving back and forth as Nemea groomed herself near the opening to their cave. She was watching everyone return home and trying to figure out where her family was now staying, she assumed that Fell's parents had welcomed them into their den but she could be wrong. To have two fully grown lions living together was often a disaster waiting to happen. Shaking what little hair hung over her eyes, she gently rested herself at Fell's head as he leaned forward to lick her face. It had been a full year since their union, long enough for the rest of their pride to witness their commitment to each other and their titles. Now, heirs were expected. For most Leolings, the process of child birth required them to leave the mountain and settle in a hidden den far from Man, Elf, Dwarf, and Lion but because of Fell and Nemea's status as King and Queen, they didn't have to go about finding a new den. The King's Cave was passed down heir to heir, from Morl to Fell, not to mention it was the highest den.

Nemea would've wanted to experience this Furless, she had heard the noises made in the night by the humans of Dale and it puzzled her, made her curious for the experience. Fell seemed to sense this desire and bumped his head against hers.

"_Next time, this is merely for traditions sake but," _Nemea shivered as Fell rose off the ground and walked behind her. _"Next time, I will put you into such an agony that you won't soon forget."_

"_I look forward to it, my King."_

* * *

Nemea shot upwards, her eyes wide and her heart pounding furiously, sweat dripped from her forehead and her limbs shook like – Wait. Who was on watch? She stared around the camp blindly, the remnants of her dream still flashed before her eyes and Nemea felt flushed and sick. Hunger gnawed at her stomach and she knew she had to get rid of it fast before she did something stupid. Standing up and carefully stepping around her comrades, Nemea dashed into the forest and shifted, her jaws locking around the deer of a stag.

After successfully sneaking out of Rivendell, the dwarves were told to meet Gandalf in the Misty Mountains as he needed to report his findings to the White Counsel and give them enough time to escape the elven city. Nemea and Balin were then appointed the company's new guides, Nemea for her obvious knowledge of the land and Balin for his own experience. Balin had travelled with Dwalin and Thorin, all three of them were exceptional blacksmiths but Thorin preferred staying near the Blue Mountains to help his sister raise her sons. After a while, Dwalin started leaving for work less and chose to train the boys and anyone else willing to face his brutal teachings. Balin had been to Rohan and Gondor and rumour was that he had travelled with the Dúnedain rangers to expand his knowledge of the Wild. They had made good time getting away from Rivendell and now slept on the road towards the mountain pass. Nemea dreaded the climb already and could practically hear the dwarves complain of the conditions. Regrettably, neither Dwarf nor Hobbit was built for such long journeys.

The lioness hunted until the dawn, carrying two stags on her back and a bunch of rabbits in her mouth. She met Bombur upon returning to the camp and he didn't seem the least bit aware of her fitful sleep and was actually pretty happy when the lioness showed the extent of her kill. Nemea felt a slight hunger rise up in her as she smelled Bombur and walked behind a tree to shift back so she could speak and help him prepare breakfast. Nemea wasn't comfortable speaking the dwarves when she was a lion, Frerin nearly died of fright the first time they spoke and she knew some of them would wonder how they understood her so well. She feared this in Thorin the most, Nemea didn't know if Frerin alluded to their friendship and describe her Furless form but if hadn't said anything to justify that fear. She only knew that Frerin described her language as something akin to Khuzdul when she slowed down, she sounded like a lion if she rushed what she was saying or if she wasn't giving much thought to the words she was trying to form. Nemea remembered being so excited when she found that Frerin could speak to her whether it be in Khuzdul or not and then wondered if Mordecai and Mellion had become friendly with Thorin or Dis.

In any case, they didn't have much time for anything but soup as the scent of spices and cooking meat drew attention (Nemea could certainly attest to that), and it was Dwalin who said that by stewing the meat, you ruined its texture. Bombur, without really thinking, told the muscled dwarf that he didn't have to eat it if he didn't want to. The two dwarves hadn't spoken to each other since that happened (not that they ever really conversed with one another) and Bombur was awfully skittish around Dwalin, much to the latter's amusement. Nemea managed to find some wild mushrooms for the stew and that smell alone brought Bilbo out of his slumber.

Before they departed from Rivendell, Estel had presented the wild woman with a forest green cloak to keep her warm and when she had woken up, she abandoned the cloak on the ground. Because it already smelled very much like Nemea, Bilbo had tugged and hugged the cloak close to him and now was more than a little miffed that his sleeping companion was in fact cloth and not a flesh and blood person. Nemea chuckled as she fixed his curls and set him to work on waking up the others but once again, Kili was asked to wake his uncle.

The exiled prince surveyed his company silently, his gaze falling to Bilbo as the hobbit was told by Dwalin that he would be training the Baggins again before they set off. True, Bilbo's skill had improved under the Elf's guidance but it was nowhere near to what it needed to be. Then again, the hobbit had the advantage of having a giant lion as his protector. Thorin watched the woman carefully as she stood up and presented him with a bowl, she raised an eyebrow at his hesitation.

"If I wanted to do you harm, Thorin, I'd be more direct about it." She said with an upwards curl of her lips, ignoring the wary stare he gave her.

"I do not know what you are referring to."

"Of course," she grabbed one of his hands and pushed the bowl into it. "Besides, I doubt you're interested in the lembas bread." At that, Thorin scowled and Nemea took that as her cue to leave. When everyone was properly fed and their things packed up, the company formed a large circle around Dwalin and Bilbo. The little hobbit was trembling terribly and Thorin rolled his eyes as Dwalin lunged forward and knocked Bilbo off his feet. They went a few rounds with Bilbo using his small size to easily evade Dwalin's attacks but at the same time, Dwalin capitalized on the hobbit's fear and timidity. After five rounds of beating the hobbit, Dwalin threw his hands in the arm and had Fili and Kili try their luck. Bilbo was a little more daring if not angrier as the boys often teased him, he wasn't afraid of them but he was growing tired of their antics. All in all, he managed to nick Kili's cheek and hit one of Fili's swords so hard, that both of their blades went flying. Fili was due to fight another round with the hobbit but Nemea asked him to wait. She knelt down beside him and sighed.

"You must be braver, Little One."

"Easy for you to say," he said shortly. Nemea rolled her eyes.

"Clearly you need some initiative. Dwalin?" the tattooed dwarf looked up and walked towards Nemea, the wild woman sat down on the edge of the circle and extended her arm. Bilbo raised an eyebrow curiously as Nemea instructed Dwalin to pull out his knife.

"Each time Fili hits you, Dwalin will cut me." It went silent, real quiet and Bilbo stood there with a sick look on his face. Fili sheathed his swords and looked to Thorin for the go to quit but the dwarf prince shook his head and gestured to Nemea, waiting to hear her consent.

"Are you sure?" Dwalin asked seriously, slightly impressed with her decision.

"I'm not asking you to cut off my arm, I've had worse done to me." Bilbo opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find a suitable comeback or rebuke and yet found nothing to aid him. He stared into Nemea's eyes and saw that she was ready, that she did not fear what could happen. But Bilbo was afraid. A part of him knew that Dwalin would make small marks in her skin, nothing fatal, but he was worried the number of scars. He wasn't that good, he didn't train for this because he never had to in the past and he was scared of causing harm to his friend and letting her down. He didn't want to fight because he knew he would never be able to protect her.

"I can't do this." Bilbo saw Thorin turn away to sit with Balin and some anger rose in him. Nemea smiled at him and nodded her head, silently telling him to harness that anger. He glanced down at his nameless blade then at Fili and Thorin's retreating back before his gaze landed on Nemea. Sure he wasn't great but he would at least be willing to give it try.

"Oh, alright then – stop grinning, Nim, it's unsettling."

"It's good to see you all riled up, a pleasant change…Little Rabbit." Bilbo gave her a scalding look and squared his shoulders with a deep breath, praying to the gods and asking for nothing short of a miracle. Fili drew his blades slowly, relishing in the sound of metal scraping against his scabbards. Bilbo watched the blond dwarf flip the swords between his fingers and immediately started moving to the right. Bilbo spared a look down at his feet, mirroring the dwarf's footwork almost perfectly, his mind trying to find a balance between the anger he felt and the need to concentrate. He had a sudden thought, this wasn't much different from rock throwing – Fili darted forward. Bilbo brought up his sword to block the first sword coming at him, ducking as the other sailed over his head. He stumbled forwards and spun around, raising his sword in defense as both of Fili's sword crashed down on his blade. To throw a rock, Bilbo needed to find a target to hit. He shoved Fili back and thrust forward, slicing open Fili's right glove, a cheer rose up from the dwarves. After the target was selected, Bilbo needed a lot of power to throw the rock and hit a bird. Feeling more confident, he darted forward and tried touching the hole in Fili's glove but the dwarf spun around and slapped the flat edge of his sword against Bilbo's back. Turning, he watched Dwalin cut into Nemea's skin. She made no indication that it hurt.

Angry, he stalked forwards and slammed his sword down on Fili's head; the blond dwarf blocked with one sword and swiped with the other, Bilbo threw out a hand to protect himself and yelped as the blade cut open his hand. He knew Dwalin made another cut on Nemea's arm.

"Sorry!" Fili cried, dropping his swords and coming forward to examine the wound. Bilbo huffed and stomped on Fili's foot, using the hilt of his sword and stabbing Fili's arm. The dwarf lost balance and fell onto his bum, giving Bilbo a look of bewilderment as the hobbit pointed his sword at him.

"You…you won Bilbo!" Fili said hurriedly, another cheer went up into the air as Bilbo clumsily sheathed his blade and made to sit down beside Nemea. Receiving a roll of bandages and a water canteen, she washed his new scar and wrapped it. The two cuts on Nemea's arm did not bleed so much so she left them alone.

"Well done, Little One." She said as she leant forward to kiss his cheek. "You've some hope."

"Indeed, never knew our burgular had it in him!" Dwalin said with a loud laugh, clapping Bilbo on the shoulder. The hobbit spurted and gave Dwalin's back a mean look, noticing that Thorin gave him an approving nod. Perhaps, he thought genially, leaving wasn't such a bad idea after all.

*/*/*

It rained extensively in the Misty Mountains. Nemea cursed herself for believing her dealings with water would end on the account that they were climbing up a mountain, the path so slick that the dwarves slipped and fell into her legs. Thankfully, the cloak Estel had given kept her drier and warmer than the last time but Nemea felt very heavy as the material of the cloak soaked up the water. Everyone was at varying degrees of discomfort, Dwalin had already made several threats on Bilbo's life for nearly falling off the mountain and Nemea had made several scalding remarks in return that made everyone wish they were somewhere else. What shelter they had found on the way was now long gone, the caves in the mountain were small and few, the larger ones were subject to intense scrutiny as Thorin assumed the goblins had built them. Nemea could not offer any advice; she ran all day and all night to get clear of the mountains, never stopping to check her injuries. Her sense of smell was also lessened so she couldn't determine which caves were safe or not. No one was being hard on her for that, the dwarves were just tired and in desperate need of dryness.

"Watch out!" Dwalin yelled and Nemea looked behind her and told everyone to stay close to the mountain, large pieces of rock came tumbling down the mountain and the lioness felt her heart drop into her stomach as a giant figure made of stone started walking towards them. Nemea had heard of stone giants from her father but to see one trampling over trees like they were nothing but grass…Its gait was slow and heavy, creating thunder with each massive step it took and it reached over and yanked another massive boulder from above them. A second giant walked out from behind the mountain, Nemea thought it looked rather funny as it appeared to be running.

"What's happening?" Kili cried faintly, his eyes staring at the second stone giant that was struck by the first's giant rock. Nemea felt the wall behind her tremble and saw that the ledge they all stood on was slowly crumbling away into pieces. Feeling sick, Nemea looked up to watch long rocky arms break free of the mountain and she noticed a little too late that they all stood on the giant's knees.

"Kili! Grab my hand, Ki – " as the giant stood up, it divided the company in half and Nemea pulled Kili back as he reached out to grab his brother's hand. She saw the golden-haired dwarf give her a stout nod but she couldn't discern what it meant at this moment, their group was moving forward to try and get off the giant. Once safe, they all watched the three giants battled each other, smashing their enormous limbs against one another or tearing rock from the mountain to throw. Nemea was suddenly thankful that she didn't meet this trio of trouble the first time she travelled through here. The cries of their other companions rang in the air as their giant was smashed against the mountain, its face breaking a part and splitting off from its head, it started to fall back and its legs cracked against the mountain. Nemea could've screamed and Kili suddenly sagged into her body. Ahead, she could hear Thorin calling for his nephews and Kili seemed to sense that his presence was needed, he would now be Thorin's heir and right now, Thorin needed his support.

"They're alright, lads!" Dwalin called cheerfully and Kili leant away from the mountain to see if he was right, Nemea kept a hand on his shoulder and caught sight of the older brother trying to pull Bombur to his feet. Kili looked up at her with a bright smile and carefully weaved his way around the others so he could embrace his brother. Nemea was aching to do the same to her hobbit but as she looked around, she noticed that he was gone. Panic rose up in her chest and she forced herself to calmly look around before he noticed Ori staring over the edge of the mountain. She looked over the side and found Bilbo clinging to a small crack in the rock, his knuckles already very white from holding on. Nemea dropped to her knees and thrust out her hand.

"Reach Bilbo, you must!" That drew the attention of Bofur who called out to Dwalin for rope; he and Ori kneeled on either side of her and reached out with their hands as well. Bilbo's frightened eyes darted between their faces before he hesitantly stretched his hand out, the rock he held onto cracked and he fell another few feet with a yelp. Nemea growled. She wasn't especially fond of heights and with the steady downpour of rain, everything was very slippery. Acting now and thinking later, she cast herself over the side and moved her feet under Bilbo's arms, she grimaced when he latched firmly onto her ankles. Swinging her legs from side to her, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she gripped the ledge, she gave Bofur and Ori a nod as she swung her legs high over the ledge. The dwarves caught the hobbit and Nemea went to pulled herself but her foot slipped. For a split second, Nemea watched herself grow up alongside her brothers, her union with Fell, the desolation of Smaug, and her time with Bilbo from the moment he was born until now. A hand held tight to her wrist and Nemea was surprised to see Dwalin holding her up. Grunting as he pulled her over the side, she gave him an appreciative nod before turning to Bilbo and cupping his face.

"Perhaps I should find a leash and keep you secured to me at all times, huh?" she said breathlessly. Bilbo choked on a sob and laughed a little, helping Nemea stand and adjust her cloak.

"Aye, we don't want to lose our burgular." Dwalin said wryly and Nemea snorted at him. Thorin didn't look nearly as amused.

"He's been lost since he left home. He should never have come," the dwarf prince glared at Bilbo. "As he has shown little to be counted amongst us." Bilbo looked down, he thought that by winning against Fili all those days ago, that he had earned a little of Thorin's respect but with his accident, he felt as though he was right back at square one.

"Maybe we should've left him in that sack and dragged him with us to Rivendell." Nemea muttered sourly, not caring that Thorin gave her glare and swore softly under his breath. He focused instead on his sister-sons and examining a cave nearby. The rest of the company followed after him, a few giving the hobbit pitying stares but Bilbo ignored it, waiting until Nemea sat down so he could curl up beside her and pretend that he was back home in the Shire sleeping. And that night, he did manage to dream of home shortly before he made his decision to leave.

* * *

**I was this close to writing lion sex for you guys but from the videos I looked up, it wouldn't have been very interesting...**

**Wow, never thought I'd say that.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine: Battle in Goblin Town**

Bilbo Baggins liked to think he was a lot of things, things like brave and confident but the truth of the matter (at least to him) was that these words did not describe him at all. He had been living alone since the death of his parents, not seeking a bride and not really involving himself in any activities around the Shire. He had Nemea. He didn't need much else to keep him happy. And maybe that was stupid of him, to think that he would always have his lioness or to assume that everything in his life was perfect. It wasn't. Bilbo knew he had become too dependent on Nemea for support and that he often sought approval from everyone else. He knew that Nemea believed in him with every fiber of her being and this journey brought him out of his shell more, he never imagined that he would ever speak to a Troll or an Elf, evade capture by Orcs, or see a stone giant. It was all very wonderful and he knew his mother would've been so proud of him and yet…there were the small things that tore down his confidence like Thorin's accusing stares. In fact, Bilbo liked to pin all his doubts on Thorin for once seeing as that dwarf saw it as his job to make the hobbit feel less than worthless, and he knew that letting Nemea defend him all the time made him look even weaker.

But he was a hobbit! A hobbit partially raised by a Lion of Erebor but a hobbit all the same. What could he actually do that would make a difference? Oh sure, stealing fireworks were very clever when he was young and hitting birds and squirrels with perfect accuracy was all fine and good back home but this – _this_ was not home. And he knew the teasing of the dwarves was all in good fun, this far into the journey and Bilbo didn't mind so much anymore but the second Thorin opened his mouth, Bilbo knew he wasn't going to cut it. They had Nori. They had Nemea. What was he?

As the snoring around him grew louder, Bilbo focused on Nemea's quiet breathing. She had lost a lot and she hadn't lost hope. She was scared but she never let anyone in on that fact except Bilbo who listened quietly and told her everything would be alright; how terribly hypocritical of him. At least Nemea had grown from her experiences, at least she fought back when she was threatened, at least she had enough guts to talk back to Thorin! Bilbo opened his eyes, he was weighing her down, wasn't he? If something should happen to him, Nemea would be able to move on, she had the dwarves and Gandalf and the Elves of Rivendell. If Nemea died, who could protect him then? Gandalf wasn't here and while some members of the company treated him like the awkward cousin they just remembered they had, Bilbo knew it wouldn't be enough. He's not ready. Maybe he'll stay with the Elves and train some more, he could always come back right? Don't be ridiculous, Bilbo told himself, this will never work out.

So quick as a rabbit, Bilbo slipped away from Nemea and packed his things, ready to leave until he saw Bofur sitting at the mouth of the cave. Bother.

"Just where do you think you're going?" the dwarf asked him in surprise.

"Back the Rivendell." _Oh sure, _now_ I sound brave. _

"You can't do that, you're part of the company now."

"I'm not though, am I?" Bofur looked down then around the campsite at everyone's sleeping forms, he watched Nemea turn onto her other side and heard a soft growling noise.

"Thorin was right, I shouldn't have come," Bilbo continued. "I'm a Baggins not a Took, I don't know what I was thinking."

"You're homesick, I understand." Bilbo gave Bofur an incredulous look, wasn't this whole quest supposed to give the dwarves a home?

"No, you don't understand, none of you do. You're dwarves, you're used to this life, on the road. Never stopping, never belonging anywhere!" And wasn't this quest also going to give Nemea her home back? She wouldn't come back with him to Bag End. She'd stay there and forget about him. The look on Bofur's face made Bilbo stop thinking, the hat on the toymaker's head seemed to droop and Bilbo shook his head.

"I'm sorry I…oh."

"No, no. You're right. We don't belong anywhere." He looked at the company when he said that and then turned back around with a sad smile on his face. "I wish you all the luck in world, I really do. And you can count on me to look after Nemea." Bilbo lifted one side of his mouth in an attempt to smile and turned to leave when Bofur asked why the hobbit was glowing faintly. Bilbo felt sick as he pulled out his sword and blinked at the harsh blue light illuminating his blade. Thorin was calling for everyone to wake and suddenly they were all falling. They went tumbling down a long shaft, smashing into each other and their packs and weapons, listening to shrill laughter as they all were dumped into a cage made of wood. Bilbo felt sicker as he realized that it wasn't a wooden cage at all but a cage of bone fragments. A loud growl was heard from under them and Nemea wiggled her way to the front of the cage where she called everyone to their feet.

Goblins. From all sides, the wretched creatures came and yanked at their clothes and hair, their gnarled fingers biting into their flesh. Bilbo watched as several goblins threw themselves at Thorin and dragged him away from his nephews, a fierce snarling was heard up ahead and Bilbo watched horrified as maybe ten goblins attacked Nemea. She sent two flying over the side of a bridge with one hand, using the other to strangle another and he looked away as she out her lips to his neck and ripped it out. Dwalin was trying to get over to her as more goblins appeared with spears and jabbed her sides, a few blades were used to carve scars into the legs and Nemea fell to her knees, howling as crude metal circlets bound her wrists, a collar was fastened around her neck as one goblin used the blunt end of his sword to punch her in the stomach. Nemea gasped, barely having enough time to process what had happened before the goblins pulled her along the bridge, they were so much shorter than she was that she was forced to bend over as she ran. The other dwarves were passed along a line of goblins as they continued to touch and jeer him towards some greater malice. Bilbo was pushed into Nori's back and he tried to apologize only to have another goblin bash his head with a club, Bilbo crouched down and rubbed his head fiercely. He looked all around him to watch the goblins and the dwarves walk past him, the sound of laughter and struggling soon faded and Bilbo was left all alone.

"_Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, they can pass unseen by most if they choose_." Isn't that what Gandalf has said? Bilbo looked up at the passage they had fallen through, there'd be no way back up there. This could work to his advantage; he could find an exit and prove to Thorin (and himself) that he was meant to be on this quest, that he wasn't useless. He could do this, he had a sword now and his wit and nothing could be more dangerous. But he had to hurry, there was no Gandalf this time and he couldn't rely on Nemea. Bilbo hopped on his feet and pulled out his sword, following its glow towards his friends. But Fate is rarely kind as another goblin jumped down from somewhere and yanked out a rusty sword. It was a mean looking thing covered in warts and nasty patches of skin coloured red with infection and puss-filled rashes. He slashed at Bilbo and the hobbit blocked, the ferocity of the attack making him stumble back. He hastily climbed back to his feet and defended against another attack, knocking the blade from the goblin's hand. Frazzled, the hobbit made for the bone cage (the poor thing) but the goblin leapt onto his back and bit down on Bilbo's shoulder. With howl of pain and hobbit tried to beat the creature off, spinning wildly and shouting for help when his little foot stepped on nothing but air and the two of them disappeared into darkness.

*/*/*

As the dwarves were led away from the bone cage, and as Nori watched Bilbo quietly slip away, the company was treated to the vastness of Goblin Town. Numerous tunnels ran throughout the mountain like blood vessels, structures were built of bone, wood, and rope and lit by tall torches of light. Goblins hate light, they cannot move in daylight so there were many caves left dark and unattended except by creatures with tiny glowing eyes. Ugly laughter followed their every step, the odor of decay hung heavily in the air as their captors pushed and prodded greedily. Heading the line was Nemea as she was dragged along by three goblins, her legs bleeding and aching with every step and her sides smarting with all the pain. She was certain nothing was broken but she was very aware of the fact that blood was freely running down her hips and pooling in her shoes. Her nose only smelled blood and that wasn't exactly a bad thing, blood smelled better than shit.

Eventually, the goblins forced them all onto his platform hovering over nothingness before sat the largest goblin Nemea had ever seen. He was easily the size of the trolls they had met earlier in their journey and Nemea wasn't that interested in being thrown about all willy-nilly. He slid off his throne, his massive foot squeezing a stack of goblins so he could step towards them. The goblins yanked Nemea onto her knees, pulling the collar around her neck until her face met the floor. They giggled all around her, their hands petting her hair and their fingers digging into her scars. Would the Goblin King keep her alive? Or would he keep her as a pet, a new source of entertainment? They asked gleefully and she growled at him, her eyes as bright as the torchlight when raised her head and glared at them.

"Who would be so _bold_ as to _armed_ into _my_ kingdom?" his voice rasped and no one answered. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your Malevolence." The Goblin King looked at her for a second, a smile on his face before he looked at the said dwarves with disgust.

"Dwarves?"

"We found them on the Front Porch." The goblin declared proudly and Nemea lashed out and tried biting his hand. The Goblin King turned his head to look at her and Nemea found herself looking away, the room was getting a little fuzzy and she felt sick.

"But not all dwarves look so fair, I remember _you_." He sneered and his hand reached down to grab her braid, he pulled her head up so Nemea would have to look at him. "Don't we? A little lion so far from home. How're the kids?" She hissed and pulled out a leg to kick him but it had little effect, the goblins laughed at her and she felt a whip at her back.

"Perhaps I should be asking _you_ why you've led dwarves here, hm?" Nemea smirked.

"I'll tell you…once you've bent over and licked your own balls." The whip came down on her back again but she could only laugh at it. The Goblin King frowned at her apparent amusement, scratching his goiter thoughtfully before he let her go and watched as the goblins beat her. The dwarves watched on in silent horror, watching as Nemea's blood soaked through her shirt and how she could do nothing but laugh. To Nemea, this didn't hurt at all as her greatest pain came from losing her family. The Goblin King raised his hand for the goblin to stop whipping her and he shook his head.

"Clearly I'm interrogating the wrong person," he laughed cruelly. "Bring out the Mangler, bring out the _Bone _Breaker. Start with the youngest!" Nemea looked up watched the goblins seize Kili and drag him up beside her. "Start with his fingers." The King commanded and Nemea tried to stand only to have her legs slashed.

"Wait!" The goblins quickly moved away from Thorin as he stood before the Goblin King, the authority in his voice was unmistakeable. "Let him be." He continued, sparing Kili a glance before looking back at the Goblin King. The creature smiling and nodded his head, Kili was tossed back into the group where everyone quickly made a circle around the youngest in their company.

"Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thrór; King under the Mountain." The Goblin King bowed deeply, Thorin stared at him with contempt.

"Oh, but I'm forgetting! You don't _have_ a mountain and you're not a king which makes you…nobody really." The goblins all nodded their heads in agreement, their eyes watching Thorin for any lapse in emotion that they could use against him. But Thorin stood proudly, his gaze never wavering in the slightest. Nemea let her head drop onto her knees, breathing with her mouth open. She could feel herself losing consciousness, there was already so much blood leaving her body that if they didn't get out of her quickly enough, there was a good chance that she would die. She heard Thorin speak beside her, his voice low and angry and fearful but she couldn't hear what he was saying. There was a shift in the air around them, the goblins cheered and Nemea turned her head and saw several large _things_ being wheeled towards them. Torture devices, she thought numbly, that's not good. But even if she wanted to move, every injury was crying out, every injury had a throbbing heartbeat of its own. Even if she wanted to move, her injuries would slow her down. A goblin picked up Orcrist, pulled it out, and dropped it with a hiss. The atmosphere shifted once again and the goblins recoiled as if they were slapped, the Goblin King trampled over his minions and scurried up to his throne, cowering in fear.

"I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced a thousand necks!" The goblins around Nemea dropped the ropes holding her and leapt onto Thorin's back. They wrestled him to the ground and pinned down his arms and legs, the goblins started pulling the dwarves a part to beat them as their king commanded. Nemea crawled a short distance away, pulling on the tough metal collar and manacles, she stopped and watching a group of goblins walk towards her. She smiled. Hunching over and growling, tendrils of golden hair sprouted from her skin, bones cracked, and the bounds that held she snapped as her body grew. The goblins didn't seem to care, the injuries that had inflicted upon her still showed. Her backs legs were drenched in blood, the spot where a spear pierced her side was still bleeding, her back was covered in scars, and numerous little scars were all over her body from where the goblins fingers and teeth had been. Roaring, she leapt on them and scratched their faces, biting off pieces and tossing them aside. She made for Thorin as a goblin sat on his chest with a bone blade poised to strike but a bright light flooded the cave and great waves of wind brought everyone to the ground.

Gandalf had appeared at last.

* * *

To say that Bilbo was in trouble was probably one of the greatest understatements in history, not only did his shoulder sting like crazy but he had played a game of riddles with this strange creature and even though he won and was promised a way out, the creature had figured out that Bilbo had stolen his "Precious". It was a very simple ring, the hobbit thought now as he was running to save his life, not something to throw a fit over but then again, there wasn't a jeweller who could gift the creature with another one. Bilbo wondered if he shouldn't give the ring back to this thing trying to eat him but the moment he thought of it, he disliked the idea. Why not take home a souvenir of his travels that he himself found on his own? He evaded capture and killed a goblin…well, the fall had helped and the creature was in the process of eating him. Bilbo smiled, usually such a thought would disgust him but he was feeling oddly happy. What would the others say when they found out what he had done? Oh, he could just imagine the surprised looks on their faces and maybe Thorin wouldn't be so harsh with him now.

There was a small crack in the wall that led down another tunnel and Bilbo thrust himself into it only to be stuck. His sounds of struggle drew the creature closer; Bilbo saw his bright blue eyes in the dark accompanied by snarling.

"It's ours!" the creature growled. "It's ours!" Bilbo took a deep breath and pulled himself through the crack, his brass buttons flying into the air and hitting the creature in the face. As he started to fall, his elbows collided with the ground and his hand flew open. The ring spun in the air and Bilbo opened his hand to catch it when a rather peculiar thing happened, the ring _moved_ and slipped itself onto Bilbo's finger instead. Bilbo stood up amazed, everything around him was blurry, the very air seemed to shake. He looked down at himself, noticing that the red in his jacket was a duller, muddy colour. The creature came barrelling through the opening and Bilbo put his hands over his face.

"Baggins! Thief!" the creature hurried along the passageway, screaming for Bilbo to come back and the hobbit looked at his ring and the creature as it vanished around a corner. He was invisible, wasn't he? This was one of those funny little magic rings, how lucky! At the creature's cry of "Baggins" again, Bilbo wondered if he could still find a way out if he followed it. Shrugging his shoulders, he broke into a run and continuing on his current mission of leaving the Misty Mountains alive.

* * *

Nemea was panting alongside Gandalf as he led the way through Goblin Town, using his magic to break off giant boulders to crush the goblins or send blinding light into their eyes. She felt awfully numb with all the running, her legs were screaming for rest and her lungs were shrieking at the lack of air. Nemea relied heavily on Gandalf for guidance, listening for his instruction on when to attack or wait. He shouted for her to pull back on a bridge as goblins came at them from all sides, something burst through the bridge and Gandalf stood in front of her as the Great Goblin laughed.

"You thought you could escape me?" he swung a large mace at the wizard and Gandalf stumbled backwards, Nemea pushed him back into position with a snarl. "What are you going to now, Wizard?" he sneered and Gandalf seemed to roll his eyes, thrusting his staff into the Goblin's eyes and then slashing his stomach and neck opened. Then goblin fell backwards, breaking the bridge further and sending the dwarves careening down the cavern. Nemea curled her claws into the wood, feeling some of the dwarves hold onto her for dear life. They stuttered to a stop, Gandalf pulled Nemea from the wreckage and Bofur noted that "it could've been worse", only to have the corpse of the Goblin King fall on top of them. Nemea chuckled and into Gandalf, he gently stroked her face and shook his head.

"Will you be alright? Nemea?" the lioness's knees buckled and she sunk to the ground. She took deep breaths, growling as her chest hurt with each intake of air. More goblins were coming, they stuck to the walls like spiders and their shrill cries of vengeance echoed in the mountain.

"Can she move?" Thorin asked, he put a hand on her shoulder and the lioness grunted, slowly getting to her feet and licking her lips.

"_I will be fine." _She said firmly, not caring that the dwarves around her understood her perfectly. "Then we must hurry, daylight will be our ally." Gandalf took off down a corridor and Nemea waited the last dwarf to follow. Regrettably that was Bombur and the lioness pushed her head into his back to get him to move faster and when that wasn't enough, she started threatening him. Now, Bombur understood most of what she was saying and he was soon yelling for everyone to hurry up, siting that Nemea was going to eat him if that didn't. And if things weren't looking so bad, they all might've laughed but she was a lion in pain and probably would've threatened everyone. A doorway opened up to them and white light poured through it, the dwarves ran even faster and Nemea sighed in relief, looking behind her for the goblins. A breeze blew in and ruffled her fur, the scent of something familiar tickled her nostrils. She looked down another tunnel curiously and stepped forward to check it out when her ears picked up movement and she took it as a sign to flee. Racing down the hill after the others, Nemea lid to a stop beside Fili, lying down and panting heavily, the blond dwarf kneeled down and examined her injuries. The cuts on her legs were healing but with the running, they had grown larger and were bleeding heavily. Gandalf began counting the number of their group; Nemea stopped breathing for a second when they all realized that Bilbo was missing.

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us." Nemea growled at "collared".

"What happened exactly? Tell me." Gandalf said, watching Nemea from the corner of his eye.

"I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance to flee and took it! He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth since he left home. We will _not_ be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone." Nemea forced herself to stand and roared at the prince, her teeth and claws bared as if he was enemy. Dwalin stepped in front of him and raised his axe, trying to coax Nemea to calm down but Thorin shook his head and pushed Dwalin aside, allowing Nemea to continue on her path and stand over him.

"It is the truth, Nemea, I heard him trying to leave before the goblins took us. He knew he was not going to be of any use." He told her forcefully and Nemea growled again.

"_And whose fault is that?" _Now they _all_ heard her speak, her deep voice seemed to come from within their heads and Thorin put a hand on his blade.

_ "Frightened? You should be." _She started to walk around him slowly like he was prey, her yellow eyes fixed on his form. Thorin for his part remained calm, he was looking at Gandalf but the wizard offered no plan of action.

_"Bilbo _is_ strong, I know it. He _can_ help you. But all you've done is put him down since this began. And because of that, he is gone and I have lost everything dear to me. I should kill you now – "_

"There won't be any need for that, Nim; I can fight my own battles." Everyone turned around to watch Bilbo slowly walk down the hill and ease Nemea away from Thorin; he took her face in his hands and brought their foreheads together. Nemea wanted to cry. Bilbo laughed and played with her ears, staring at everyone a little awkwardly and shuffling around to glance back at Gandalf, the wizard put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and squeezed, the hobbit flinched and that didn't go unnoticed.

"Bilbo Baggins! I have never been so happy to anyone in my life!"

"We'd given up on you," Kili said with a sigh of relief, his eyes darting between Nemea and Thorin.

"How'd you get past the goblins?" Fili asked next.

"How indeed." Bilbo laughed nervously, putting his hands in his pockets and whistling. Gandalf watched the hobbit carefully, how he favoured to keep one hand in his pocket, using the other to pet Nemea. Her eyes had softened considerably and she didn't want to kill Thorin anymore, she never did really…she just wanted to scare him a bit is all.

"Well, what does it matter? He's back!" Gandalf said, gaze flickering between Bilbo and Thorin.

"It matters. I want to know; why did you come back?"

"Look, I know you doubt me, I know you always have and you're right. I often think of Bag End, of how I'm _safe_ there and that I can always _return_ there. I miss my books and my armchair, my soft bed, and a full pantry," he laughed there and sighed. "See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back because you don't have one, a home. It was taken from you but I shall try to help you take it back if I can." Nemea huffed, giving Thorin a look as he nodded slowly. Gandalf smiled at them all; finally, the real quest had begun.

But just as things were getting all warm and fuzzy, a rough voice came on the breeze and everyone looked up to see what the setting sun was bringing, a pack of wargs with their riders. Again, everyone was running but they were met with a cliff and not enough time to climb down. The dwarves hurried into the trees as the first few wargs burst into the clearing. Nemea zipped around and caught one around the neck, snapping its neck and jumping backwards as another took its place. They growled at each other, sinking low to ground and trying to decide how to attack when the warg whimpered and turned around. There stood Bilbo with his little sword glowing, the warg jumped but Nemea dug her claws into its legs, Bilbo stabbed the beast threw the eye. The hobbit gave Nemea a funny look, something like pride but he was disgusted by it at the same time. Nemea walked and helped him pull out his sword and then watched as he climbed a tree. The dwarves were split between three trees and she put herself in the middle of all of them as the rest of the party showed up.

Nemea looked at the pale orc calmly, growling as the wargs slowly surrounded her. She did not understand the language he was speaking but she thought she recognized Thorin and Thrain's names being mentioned. There was only one action she could understand, when the orc lifted his mace and pointed it at Thorin and then as he jerked his head to the others. Nemea grinned.

_"Come and try." _The wargs came at her.

* * *

**Would you guys like me to shorten the chapters or something? Because I assume that the long chapters deter you from reviewing - not that I care too much about it - but it makes it difficult to tell that you're actually reading and enjoying what I'm putting out. Anything you guys want to see? Don't what to see? Questions? Just one little review and my worry will go away.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

Four of the wargs immediately latched themselves around Nemea's legs, pulling and tearing viscously at her as if she was a new toy. The lioness snarled at them, trying to wrestle free as two more wargs snapped at her sides, she yelped and threw her body to the left, crushing one warg only to have the others stand on her body and bite into her flesh. Perhaps she was a little overzealous in taking them all on, she screamed as one of the wolves cracked three of her ribs. She could hear the others crying her name as she let her head drop to the ground; the wargs moved away from her, sensing that her will to fight had dropped, and instead choose to attack the trees were her friends were. Nemea let out a shaky breath and carefully looked at her side, grimacing as bone fragments stuck out of her body. It hurt to breathe; it hurt to think about what she needed to do when her brain was flooded with messages of pain. A loud crack drew her attention away from cataloguing her injuries and she felt the ground shake behind her, two of the trees had crumbled in the wake of the wargs attack and then crashed into the final tree that stood on the tip of the cliff. Now everyone was suspended on one tree. Nemea forced herself to stand, falling several times until she backed up against the last tree, growling at the wargs on either side of her.

Wargs and Lions did not often communicate with each other so Nemea had a hard time understanding what the mutts were saying to her. She understood "hopeless" and "bitch" among several other insults including one full sentence of "we shall tear them a part", Nemea launched herself to one side and clamped her jaws around the neck of a young male, heaving her head up and down quickly in order to hear his neck snap. She coughed, the blood of her foe mingling with her own, and carefully hopped back to her former position, the bone fragments ripping part of her skin open. A fiery pine cone soared over her head and lit the ground on fire, the wargs scampered back and whimpered, more of the pine cones flew over her head and created a barrier between them. Nemea gratefully lay down and licked at her wound, groaning as she fought to find a position that didn't hurt her side. Multiple cracks sounded behind her and Nemea whipped her head around to see the tree where her friends were start to fall. Jumping into the action, she dug her claws into the roots and groaned as she was pulled forward, her back paws catching on rocks and deeper roots. The tree lurched to a stop and Nemea saw little Ori slip from the branches – a broken roar came from her mouth as he wrapped his arms around Dori's legs. If Ori had latched onto Dwalin instead, the burly dwarf could have easily hoisted him back up but Dori was not known for his strength and Nemea watched, horrified, as he too lost his grip. Gandalf caught the two brothers on the end of his staff and the wizard looked up and surveyed the situation, his eyes met Nemea's for a second and the lioness saw something like hope in his eyes – a strange twinkle in his blue eyes that seemed oddly out of place.

Nemea growled, wondering if she could get to any of the dwarves and help them off to ease the tree's job of holding them but the tree itself was not especially wide and she'd probably fall if she wasn't careful. Nemea dropped her head to the trunk and sighed heavily, the corners of her vision darkening rapidly. She was going to pass out soon, she knew it, and Nemea flexed her claws from their place within the bark. The wargs were talking behind her again, their raspy voices mocking her attempts and she threw her head back and roared at them, slumping forward when they laughed at her. If she ever got out of this alive, her pride would suffer for it greatly.

She heard Bilbo calling her name and looked up to watch Thorin run past her with his sword drawn; Nemea barely registered his presence until she heard him gasp behind her. The white warg and slammed her paw into Thorin's chest and knocked him to the ground. She heard Balin cry out Thorin's name and then watched as her hobbit stood up. She watched Bilbo carefully walk down the tree trunk and he bent down and put a hand on her side, grimacing as her blood stuck to him. She smelled his blood too and looked over at his shoulder. Nemea wanted to ask how he had gotten the wound but he interrupted her.

"Later, Nim. Do you suppose that you can reach anyone?" he jerked his head at Dwalin, his eyes blinking shut as Thorin yelled in pain. The muscled dwarf was near her and the branch he held onto had snapped, Fili and Kili were also nearby. She huffed, licking her lips and nodding slowly as Bilbo helped her stand. She carefully pulled her claws out of the wood and started the slow trek towards Dwalin. She could hear Bilbo running along with Azog's commanding voice; she stood over Dwalin and dipped her head, hoping he'd get the message and put his arms around her neck. Dwalin gave her a skeptical look, eyeing her wounds concernedly and Nemea snorted.

_"I am not the issue here, grab on now, I'm tired." _His eyes narrowed as he clearly heard Nemea's voice and with a roll of her eyes, the lioness gently put her mouth around one of Dwalin's arms and lifted him onto the trunk. The two of them nodded and Nemea stalked towards the remaining wargs, Bilbo stood in front of Thorin waving his sword frantically, Nemea saw that the blue light of the sword was darkened with blood. Dwalin came flying past her with Fili and Kili and the three of them barreled into the wargs coming towards Bilbo, the little hobbit gave a stout cry and threw himself forward as well, stabbing out the eye of one giant wolf. She quickened her pace as the white warg shoved Bilbo back into Thorin and she stood protectively before her hobbit and dwarf.

"He's not waking up, Nim!" Bilbo told her, coming to stand by her head. Taking a few steps back she touched her head to Thorin's and whimpered, there were great tooth marks in his armor and a few cuts on his face, she growled at Azog. Not only was Thorin injured but he had been tossed around like a ragdoll, it was up to her and Bilbo to protect him as Dwalin and the boys took down their ranks. Somewhere in front of them, Fili roared and stabbed his swords into the skull of one warg; he pulled them out and brought them down on the head of another one. Kili abandoned his arrows for a sword of his own and he ducked under a paw and carved a scar from under the beast's arm that crawled up to its neck. Dwalin brought down his war hammer on the warg's back, pulling out an axe and imbedding it in the wolf's head. What bothered Nemea was that Azog still remained so smug about the battle as more of his troops fell to the power of the dwarves, he had started stalking towards them now and Nemea yelled a warning as a warg burst from the trees and headed straight for Kili…only to be picked up and throw off the cliff.

Eagles were flying all around them, grabbing the wargs in their claws and sending them to their deaths. They brought down trees and fanned the flames, Nemea could see them saving the dwarves and marvelled at their strength; she doubted that Bombur was easy to carry. Azog yelled in frustration as his prey was soon carried off and his men dispatched, he looked at Bilbo and Nemea and pointed his mace at them, saying something neither of them could understand. An eagle flew down behind them and gingerly picked up Thorin with its claws, his oaken branch dropping from his numb fingers. Another one lowered itself down and picked up Nemea, Bilbo hopped up and grabbed at her paws just as a small eagle swooped in and carried him into the air, dropping him on another eagle. Bilbo looked around, mentally counting down the eagles that carried the dwarves, he could see Gandalf perched on the lead eagle's back, and most of the brothers were kept together except for Bombur and Nori. He searched the skies for Nemea and gulped, she was not holding her head up anymore.

It took most of the night for the eagles to drop them off on a strange bear-shaped rock, Thorin and Nemea were laid down together and neither of them were awake. Gandalf and Bilbo's eagles landed on the rock next with the wizard hurrying to the bodies of the dwarf and lioness. Bilbo followed after him, skidding to a spot next to Nemea and dropping to his knees at her head. She was breathing, that much Bilbo knew, and he groaned as he passed a hand over her side, several of her ribs were poking out of her side. She was bleeding profusely from the wounds on her back, legs, and side and Bilbo felt his eyes water as a steady stream of blood dripped from her mouth. The dwarves were gathering around them and Gandalf ordered for them to distance themselves, he moved around Thorin and passed his hand over Nemea's face, the end of his staff glowed and Bilbo watched as a soft blue glow emanated from a small crystal in the knotted wood. Nemea growled and her eyes snapped open, she kicked her legs and Bilbo moved between her and Thorin. She breathed out slowly, coughing on blood and she looked at Gandalf. The blue light was moving into the skin and Nemea groaned, rubbing her head against the rock and shuddering.

"What are you doing to her, wizard?" Dwalin asked gruffly, standing behind Bilbo and wincing as Nemea whimpered.

"I cannot treat her wounds here, Master Dwarf, and we do not have sufficient supplies to help either of them," he gave everyone a very tired look. "What I am doing is creating a small barrier around her injuries on the _inside_, her ribs are broken and stabbing her lungs – " Bilbo moaned as he stared into the frightened eyes of his friend, Nemea was panting and her eyes darted from side to side, trying to see that everyone was alright. Bilbo furiously wiped his tears away on his sleeve, laughing despite himself at the complete wreck that it was. The goblins had torn into the rough red fabric and sliced open his white shirt, there were a few tiny scars along with the bite mark on his shoulder that he supposed should be looked at – goblins were nasty creatures and he didn't want to imagine where their mouths had been. Bilbo put his hand on Nemea's head and ran it through her mane of golden hair, it was not as thick and luxurious as the men of her race, it remained Bilbo of his former pony.

"It's alright Nim," he said slowly, trying not to show the fear in his voice. "Gandalf is helping you, we're alright. We're alright." His voice broke for a second and Nemea groaned, shutting her eyes and whimpering. Gandalf was now chanting some sort of spell and the blue light was now weaving itself around Nemea's stomach and chest to hold her ribs in place. She shook her head and shuddered and Bilbo told everyone to move away as she vomited blood and some digested food.

"That should do it," the wizard said confidently, wrinkling his nose at Nemea. "We should move Thorin now." He gestured for a few of the dwarves to carry Thorin some distance away as the lioness continued to expel the contents of her stomach. Dwalin and Bifur eagerly stepped forth and carefully carried Thorin's body some few feet away from Nemea under the shade of a large rock (from the sky, it very much resembled the ear of a bear). Gandalf knelt beside the unconscious dwarf, mumbling another ancient spell as he passed his hand over Thorin's face and within moments, those deep blue eyes opened up. Bilbo let out a sigh of relief, putting a gentle hand on Nemea's shoulder and telling her that Thorin was awake, her lips curled in something of a smile as Thorin fought to stand up and walked towards the two of them but his eyes were fixed solely on the hobbit.

"What were you doing? You could've gotten yourself killed!" Thorin said angrily, his voice thick with pain. "Did I not say you would be a burden, that you had no place amongst us?" Bilbo looked down at Nemea as if searching for a shield to defend himself. Nemea gave him a look and the hobbit stood up proudly and jerked his chin out, ready to receive yet another lecture that would further undermine his efforts to help Thorin and his company.

"And to think I _bothered_ to save your life." Bilbo said sourly, crossing his arms angrily over his chest and wincing at the pain in his shoulder. They stared at each other silently, each of them analysing the other and searching for a weakness to expose. Bilbo's face remained stiff although his eyebrow started to twitch and he had the greatest urge to _laugh_ of all things. A similar change was going on with Thorin as his face was stiff but his eyes were narrowed and he was finally feeling all the injuries from his battle with Azog, but a curious spasm was spreading quickly from his chest and suddenly he just started laughing. Bilbo, not able to contain his own laughter, started laughing as well. The company stood awkwardly on the sidelines with Gandalf laughing quietly from behind his beard. Their laughter died off slowly, both of them tried to remember why they were laughing at all – figuring it was the absurd answer Bilbo had given, the gall he had to insult the dwarf. Thorin smirked and took several bold steps forward, limping and twisting his face in pain – and he put his arms around the hobbit.

"I have never been so wrong in my life, Bilbo Baggins." The dwarves cheered, this being the moment they had been waiting for when Thorin would finally accept Bilbo into their ranks. "I am sorry I doubted you." He looked at Nemea as well when he said that and the lioness nodded her head, all angry words and actions between them forgiven.

"No, no. You were right to doubt me, I would've done the same." The hobbit said awkwardly, carefully patting Thorin on the back before they separated. He was not used to the look on the dwarf's face, the look of absolute trust and friendship but that smile looked so damn natural that Bilbo was at a loss for words. "I'm not exactly a warrior…or even a burgular." They laughed at him then and Bilbo felt his heart swell with pride as Thorin put his hand on Bilbo's back, that radiant smile catching him off guard. And then he looked behind him at Gandalf leaning on his staff, he heard Thorin gasp and turned around, his eyes caught on something in the distance.

"Is that what I think it is?" Thorin started limping towards yet another cliff and Bilbo came with him, putting his small arm across Thorin's massive back and supported him as they stood side by side, looking at last upon the Lonely Mountain.

*/*/*

Now that the wargs and Azog were far away in the Misty Mountains, the company now had to deal with several problems in their grand plan to reach Erebor. They had no food or supplies left, Nemea was gravely injured and Thorin couldn't or rather, he wouldn't stop moving. Oin guessed that his ribs were cracked and he held his arm in a funny angle which the medic chose to name it partially broken and then there was the fact that Thorin's head had been smashed against the ground two times which may or may not prove to be damaging in the near future. Indeed, Dwalin and Bifur had to hold down the stubborn dwarf as Oin stripped off his cloak and armor to tend to his injuries as best as he could. Bilbo offered his torn red waistcoat to bind Thorin's ribs and that revealed to the company that their hobbit sustained an injury of his own. Nemea slept through most of this, dreaming of a great fluffy rabbit having a tea party with a large lizard. She attributed the strange visions to Gandalf's magic and she did not speak of them until they reached Erebor but there's still a decent length of story to get through before Erebor.

By the time the sun was full in the sky, Gandalf told the company that he knew of a friend who would be more than willing to help them and that this friend lived nearby. But meeting this friend Gandalf couldn't bother naming involving climbing down these massive steps. Nemea groaned. She was standing in between Bombur and Bilbo, the two of them electing to be her fifth and sixth legs as she moved. She questioned Gandalf extensively about his magic and its strength, determining after a while that it was possible for her to climb down only that she needed to move very slowly because there was a slim, slim chance that the spell could break. She mustn't exert herself, Gandalf said, their presence would be known from the moment they left the Carrock – which was the interesting name of the bear-shaped rock they stood on.

"Could the eagles not carry us down?" Thorin asked gruffly and Bilbo rolled his eyes. Since waking up, Thorin had refused all and any assistance by all and any of the dwarves. Sure, his wounds had been treated but he didn't want anyone helping him moving around and Oin was rather nonplussed about it. Nemea watched as the dwarves sought to convince their leader that he needed aid to go down the massive steps, waiting until he yelled for them to quit worrying about them before she stood up and walked towards him. She stood over Thorin and slowly turned to one side and lay down at his feet. Bilbo gasped. Gandalf raised an eyebrow. Thorin looked puzzled.

"I believe she wants you to ride her." Gandalf said evenly, Kili snickered somewhere in the background and Fili must've elbowed him in the ribs as he gave a surprised yelp before falling silent.

"I cannot put further strain on her." He replied, Nemea snorted.

"It is a great honor to ride on a lion, Thorin Oakenshield. No dwarf has done so since the time of Durin the Deathless." Nemea narrowing her eyes and raised her head to glare at Gandalf, giving him a look of "that wasn't really needed". She gave Thorin pleading look and the two of them went into another stare down until he conceded. Gandalf tossed a light blue blanket over her back (which he mysterious drew from his sleeve), and Thorin carefully lifted his leg over her back. Once seated properly, Nemea stood up and started walking in the direction of the steps, waiting for Bombur and Bilbo to help her down the steps. With each paw that hit the rock, Thorin gripped her mane tighter as gravity pulled him higher on her back. Gandalf chose that moment to announce that after he delivered them to his friend, he would be leaving them for some other reason which he also chose not to name. Amid the dwarves various complaints, Nemea focused on taking slow and care steps, mentally cursing any situation that had "careful" in it because she was growing to despise the word. Sure, she was _careful_ during the hunt to not alert prey and she was _careful _not to frighten the hobbits of the Shire but having to constantly worry about not hurting herself was seriously grating on her nerves.

Nemea head the pack of travellers and was thankful that everyone was being so patient with her, Bombur and Bilbo supported her sides as her front paws hit the ground. She asked them not to worry about her back legs, Oin had wrapped them up and she could feel them stretch painfully. Once they stepped off the final step, Thorin said that he could continue on foot and pointed to a house in the distance. But he still kept near Nemea, the knowledge that his ancestor had walked with a lion before made him very curious, along with the fact that he and the rest of the dwarves could understand her speech. Nemea stared sideways at him, guessing the thoughts on his mind and yawning.

_"I assume you'll want answers."_

"Yes, there are some things that need explaining." He replied evenly, keeping his hand on her back as they walked. Gandalf was now ahead of them with Bilbo, cheerfully explaining that his friend Beorn was also a skin changer like Nemea only that he transformed into a large bear. He was a great friend of the animals here and he treated them as his children, he had a great temper and once more – Gandalf would be doing the talking to avoid any "unfortunate mishaps".

_"I apologize for threatening your life." _Nemea said suddenly and Thorin shook his head.

"I told you, I was wrong for doubting him."

_"That does make my actions right. Thorin, my ancestor was Durin's mount in battle, they were hardly apart – or at least that what our legends say. Because of that partnership, Leo ordered that all his descendants protect the Dwarves of Erebor from any threat but…we were never allowed to reveal ourselves to you."_

"Wait. Why were you hidden from us?" Nemea sighed and shook her head.

_"My elders said that when Durin died, Leo felt a great pain that nothing could heal, not even the birth of his heirs. We live for 400 years; he didn't want us to feel that same pain." _

Thorin rubbed her neck and smiled as she purred softly at his touch.

"If I say that I forgive you, will you promise not to think on it? Our people's pasts interest me much more than your apologies."

_"You _are_ partially my king, so yes, I suppose." _She chuckled. _"There is so much to tell you…Better yourself, little king." _

* * *

**Thanks to **_**Alexandria Moon **_**and **_**Lady of Myth Legends **_**for their reviews as they were just what my muse needed. It is a shorter chapter just so meeting Beorn and the history between the Leolings and the Dwarves of Erebor can be explained in detail, along with a few days dedicated to healing and some more bonding between Bilbo and Thorin now that they are on the same page. In response to your question, Alexandria, I haven't really planned for romance. I was thinking of some Bilbo/Thorin or Dwalin/Ori on the side but at this point, I can't bring that out. While Fili does sound wonderful as a potential mate for Nemea, the fact that she'd outlive him is upsetting and I'm a bit a biology freak, so a half-dwarf half-lion skin changer sounds rather painful but hey! Nemea will find her happiness, I have some twists planned. **

**And just because I find it amusing, on the Alerts list for this story, there is a **_**LeotheLion632- **_**get it? Because Nim's ancestor was a lion named Leo, it must be fate.**

**So yeah, leave some reviews (please) and see you next time.**


	11. Important Author's Note

Author's Note: I'm having a lot of trouble getting this next chapter to flow properly so I'm going to put this on hiatus until the second Hobbit movie is in theaters and I get some more inspiration. This will be replaced when Chapter Eleven is ready. Sorry I can't get my muse in the right place.


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